For the Sake of Blood
by NarniaIsAwesome
Summary: What most don't know about dragons is that there is only one race that ever had success in killing them. But the Amator left Middle Earth centuries before Thorin sets out. Gandalf knows that their only hope of success is in having an Amator warrior help them - so, like the meddling wizard he is, he invites a fifteenth member to join the quest... Rated T for violent scenes.
1. The Fifteenth Member

Thirteen dwarves and a wizard sat grouped around a table studying an old map. A small hobbit fluttered around behind them, peering over their shoulders. As they discussed the journey they were about to take, suddenly someone knocked on the front door.

Someone knocked on the door. They knocked lightly, three or four times, and then waited silently for the door to be opened. Inside the hobbit hole, Thorin Oakenshield turned to Gandalf.

"Who is that?" He asked, his tone accusatory.

"Our fifteenth member." Gandalf answered calmly.

"Our _fifteenth_ member?"

"Yes. The advantages presented by working with this person are numerous – in fact, it will be impossible to kill Smaug without them. So I suggest you keep a civil tongue in your head, Thorin! Bilbo, the door."

Bilbo opened it hesitantly, all the dwarves crowding around to see who this person was. To their vast surprise – and Thorin's anger – the person before them was a young woman.

She appeared to be human, though she was taller than a human woman would normally be. Her long red hair reached to the middle of her back and was pulled away from her face in a half-ponytail. Her green eyes moved slowly and surely over the group in front of her, and they got the uncomfortable feeling that she was assessing each one of them, seeing their every fault and weakness. The strangest thing about her, however, was her clothes.

She was wearing men's breeches! Simply scandalous – no respectable woman would be caught dead in such attire. Along with the breeches she wore tall brown leather boots, a brown leather tunic, and brown leather vambraces. A sword hung at her _right_ hip (the sword is supposed to be worn on the _left_ side so that it can be easily drawn) a quiver of arrows at her left, and a bow was strapped to her shoulder, just above a small leather pack.

Apparently she liked leather.

As she entered the hobbit hole, bending down to fit through the doorway, they saw that she also carried a number of small knives – one in each vambrace, several on her belt, several strapped to her pack, one strapped to her left thigh and one in each of her boots. She was very well armed, even better than the dwarves were.

Although her breeches were the strangest thing about her, they weren't the thing that caught and held the attention of the occupants of the entryway. From a chain about her neck hung a pendant. It was a large fiery-red dragon, breathing flames. Its wings were extended and its feet pulled close to its body as though it was in mid-flight. The tail was long and curved, with intricate markings along its length – in no particular pattern, it seemed. Everyone except Gandalf stared at it for a long moment, before she moved again.

Stepping forward wordlessly, the woman placed her hand over her heart and then held it out – palm forward – to Gandalf. He repeated the gesture. She nodded, and pulled a red envelope from her belt, handing it to the wizard. The others saw it as she gave it to Gandalf. On the back was some sort of seal, while on the front was a red lion, roaring.

Gandalf opened it, and scanned the contents. Looking up, he smiled.

"Thank you for coming, Lady Alana. Your presence is a great honor."

The woman laughed lightly. "An honor, Gandalf? You flatter me. I am not like the one you would have me destroy – there is no need for riddling speech and a silver tongue."

"Surely it is not flattery to claim the honor of the presence of one of the Amator in our little gathering?"

"There is nothing in Amator worthy of great honor, Gandalf. We are no different from anyone else, save in our physical form."

Gandalf bowed his head, but it was clear he disagreed. Changing the subject, he asked, "Would you care for some supper, Alana?"

"If there is any to be had." She said with a smile. "I have not eaten in weeks."

"Certainly there is some to be had." The wizard turned to the hobbit, who looked like he would pass out just from the idea of not eating for so long. "Bilbo, have you forgotten your manners? There is plenty of bread and cheese left, and stew. And bring a cup of plain water – no strong drink, just water."

"Right, of course." Bilbo scurried off.

Alana laughed again. It was a soft, gentle, merry sound. "You know my people well, Gandalf. But I shall not need my drink for some time yet, and I would not use it sooner than I have to, lest I run out on the journey. You know as well as I the trouble that should cause."

"I trust you have enough to see the journey through?"

"I should. If I run low, I will simply have to disappear for a day and replenish my stock. Perhaps also I may get some more if we pass by Rivendell. The elves would not approve, of course, but Elrond would understand."

Gandalf led her to the dining-room, where he moved the map off the table. Bilbo ran in with a bowl of stew, and a plate of bread and cheese. A moment later he added a cup of water.

The dwarves all watched in silence as she ate, while Gandalf conversed with her as if they were old friends. When she had finished, she quickly drained the water from her cup and stood.

"Are there any new developments, Gandalf? Anything I should know?"

"None."

"Good. Then, if you don't mind..."

"Of course. Take as long as you wish."

"Thank you. I shall be back before morning, don't wait up."

She slipped to the door.

"Where are you going?" Thorin asked darkly, the first dwarf to speak since she had arrived.

Alana turned and looked at him. After a moment she replied, "Gandalf knows. That should be sufficient. Good evening to you, Thorin Oakenshield." With that, she was out the door.

They all watched as she walked out the gate. Once she had latched it, she paused, and then began to run. She had only run a few steps, however, before she leapt up into the air and... vanished. They heard a faint swish, felt a soft breeze, and then there was nothing. Thorin turned to Gandalf angrily.

"That is your fifteenth member?"

"Yes."

"She is a woman!"

"I am aware of the fact that she is a woman, Thorin."

"A woman with no idea how to fend for herself, how to fight... She will be nothing but a burden!" Thorin yelled.

"No idea how to fend for herself? No idea how to fight? A burden... Thorin, you do not know what you say. She is of the Amator!"

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" Thorin asked roughly. "I speak based on what I see Gandalf. She doesn't even wear her sword on the correct side – what are the chances that she knows how to use it!"

"No, I suppose it wouldn't mean anything to you." Gandalf murmured softly, ignoring for the moment the crack about her sword and fighting skills. "Your grandfather would have known, but you are too young. Her kind have not walked this realm for an age. Not since the great worms of the North were young and strong."

He raised his voice slightly. "Few knew them by the name Amator, even then. Most called them the Nuada – what do you make of that?"

"Nothing. I know not the meaning of the word." Thorin growled.

"Then I will tell you. Nuada means protector. The Amator – that is what I call them, for it is their proper name – are the protectors of whatever realm they find themselves in. They are enemies of all things evil and guardians of all good. They especially hate dragons, and on the worms they make constant war. I have never heard of a dragon being slain – save by one of the Amator.

"When the worms of the North died out, the Amator left. They travelled to lands where dragons still live, that they may continue to fight the beasts until the very last dragon is dead. Smaug came after they had gone, and no one knows where he came from. One thing is certain, he was not in the North at the same time as the Amator, else either he would be dead or they would not be gone. You have no hope – none at all, Thorin – of killing Smaug without her help." Gandalf lectured sternly.

"I expect you all to treat her with the utmost respect. She has travelled a great distance to help you, and gone through a lot of trouble just to get here tonight. Her king, who graciously allowed her to come, requested that I see to it she is treated well. She is his personal guard and the guardian of his lands, as well as his close friend whom he views as a sister." The wizard paused a moment and then added, "And as for her sword... All Amator are left-handed, Thorin."

Thorin just grunted, and they all returned to the hobbit hole to continue with their plans.


	2. Reaching for the Stars

Later that night, after everyone had gone to bed – Bilbo in his room, Gandalf in one of the guest rooms, and the dwarves sprawled wherever they wanted – Kili, who was on watch heard something heavy land outside the hobbit hole. Heavy footsteps came toward the door. Kili gripped his weapon, and jumped as someone laid a hand on his arm.

It was only Thorin, who had been awakened by the thump of the landing. They stood together, weapons ready, as the footsteps came nearer and nearer. Just before they reached the door, however, they became light and soft, almost impossible to hear. The two dwarves looked at each other, puzzled, before whirling back to the face the door as it quietly creaked open.

"Who goes there?!" Thorin questioned roughly.

"Relax. It's just me." Alana's voice answered.

"Where did you go?" Thorin asked darkly.

Alana raised an eyebrow, although the two dwarves couldn't see it in that lighting.

"Did I not say that Gandalf knew, and it was enough?"

"Where did you go?" He repeated, with no change in his tone.

Alana groaned. "Spare me the stubbornness of dwarves!"

Thorin just glared at her.

"Very well. You want to know? I flew to the stars."

"I am serious." He growled.

"So am I. No, I didn't literally fly to the stars – I do not yet have the strength for that. Certainly the stars in Narnia are closer to the earth! I have often flown the skies there with merry company from the star-folk. Ah, well. My strength that was sapped by the journey here will soon be enough for me to approach your stars easily. But for now I got as close as I could."

With that, she slipped between sleeping dwarves to an empty spot on the floor by the window in the living room. She dropped her small leather pack on the floor and lay down, using it as a pillow. They watched her silently. She stared straight up at the ceiling, eyes open, the whole night.

"Do you suppose she is asleep?" One low voice whispered near her head.

"Her eyes are open." A second low voice pointed out.

"So? Maybe she's like an elf – I've heard they sleep with their eyes open." The first voice answered.

"But she's not an elf is she?"

"No – but if she would have said something by now if she wasn't asleep. She must not be awake." The first voice concluded.

"I am now." Alana muttered without moving. "Why'd you wake me up?" Her voice was rough with sleep.

She blinked, coming out of the mists of sleep and bringing her eyes into focus on the things around her, namely the dwarf brothers Fili and Kili.

"Thorin said to wake you if you're coming with us. We're going now." Fili answered. She identified him as the first voice.

"Seriously? That's why you took me away from my lovely sleep?" She groaned.

"Alana!" Gandalf called from the other side of the room. "We are going."

"Yeah, have fun!" She called back. "The stars are a lot farther away in Arda than in Narnia. I'm still exhausted – I'll catch up with you later."

"Very well." Gandalf nodded.

"What?" Thorin asked.

"I – will – catch – up – with – you – later." She carefully sounded out each word, then flopped back down on her back.

"Oh, and Fili, Kili? My people can sleep with their eyes open and closed – whichever we prefer. Individuals have their preferred ways. I usually prefer to sleep with my eyes open."

With that, she resumed staring at the ceiling, and soon she was asleep again. She slept through the remainder of the dwarvish racket involved in getting thirteen dwarves ready and out the door, she slept through Bilbo's awakening and panicked flight to catch up and join the group; in fact, she slept until late that afternoon, when a kindly neighbor poked his head in the open door of Bilbo's hobbit hole. The hobbit's startled gasp was what finally woke her.

"Goodness." She muttered sitting up. "What time is it, my good fellow?"

"Nearly three o'clock in the afternoon. Where is Bilbo?" The hobbit demanded.

"He's not here? So he went after all. Hm. I thought he probably would, and I'm glad to hear that he did."

"What do you mean? Who are you, and what are you doing in Bag End?"

"Bilbo's gone with Gandalf, on an adventure. I am Alana, one of their traveling companions, and I was sleeping. However, now that you have kindly woken me – for which I thank you – I believe it is time for me to catch up with them. They will be almost out of the Shire by now, I should think. Won't take long to catch up. But I'd better be going. What's your name, sir?"

"Most folks call me the Gaffer."

"Well, Gaffer, would you do me a favor and look after Bilbo's home – Bag End, did you say it was called? – while he's gone? I'll make it worth your while when we get back. Assuming we make it back of course. Don't be alarmed if it takes a year or so; actually, don't worry a bit until the tenth year. If we've been gone that long, you can assume that we're all dead, and take measures accordingly. Agreed?"

"Very well, miss. I would hate for some folks to get their hands on Mr. Bilbo's Bag End, so I'll take care of it. But Bilbo better have a good explanation for traipsing off like this, with never a moment's notice!"

"Oh, he does. And he'll be happy to tell you the tale, I'm sure. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must be off. I've got a long way to go, and little time to get there. Good day to you!"

As she spoke, she donned her small pack, and when she finished her sentence, she was out the door.

A string of thirteen dwarves, one hobbit, and one wizard, all of whom were mounted, made their way along the road. They had left the Shire behind about an hour ago, and were now in the wilds. While most of the group seemed happily content, Thorin was riding with a scowl on his face. Gandalf wore a serene, thoughtful expression. Suddenly he laughed.

"How long have you been there, my dear?" He asked, with a twinkle in his eye.

"I wondered when you would notice!" A happy voice rang out from the trees above them, causing everyone but Gandalf to crane their necks and look up. Alana dropped to the path beside Gandalf's horse.

"Probably about an hour." She answered his question, her voice still laced with laughter.

"Are you rested now?"

"Yes. Although I think I gave a poor hobbit quite the scare – he expected to find Bilbo making tea, not a warrior asleep on the floor. I asked him to look after Bag End while Bilbo was gone – told him I'd pay him when we got back."

"Who was it?" Bilbo asked timidly, worried about his home.

"Said he's usually called Gaffer. Don't worry, he can be trusted."

"How – I mean, I know he can be, if it was the Gaffer, but how did you know?"

"It's just another part of being Amator." She replied, ending the conversation.

"It seems that you use your race as an answer for most things, when you wish to change the subject." Thorin said in his usual, rough tone.

"My race _is _an answer for most things, my dear dwarf. And if I wish to change the subject, that is for _your_ sake, not mine. Not all things about my people are things that you would appreciate knowing."

Thorin was about to snap back a response, but Gandalf caught his eye and gave him a glare sufficient to shut him up. Alana spent the remaining hours of daylight walking beside Gandalf's horse, singing quietly in a tongue that no one else present could understand – unless perhaps Gandalf could. But if he did, he didn't give any indication.

Thorin's mood only got darker and darker as he listened to her cheerful voice. He managed to hold his tongue, however, until they made camp for the night. Bofur cooked supper, but when he offered her a bowl of the stew he had made, she politely refused.

"I ate yesterday, Bofur. Thank you all the same."

"Why aren't you going to eat?" Bilbo asked in amazement.

"My kind don't need food often."

"Your kind this, your kind that." Thorin growled. "Do you never speak of something other than your kind?!"

Alana raised an eyebrow. "You and your men continue to ask questions that can only be answered with words about my kind. How is the fault for this mine?"

Thorin growled again, and moved forward as if to challenge her, but Gandalf stepped between.

"Enough, Thorin." He said calmly. "Leave Alana be. She has done nothing wrong."

Thorin glared, but returned to his own food and left her be. She watched him for several minutes with a troubled gaze, before standing and saying to Gandalf, "I'm afraid I must reach for the stars again, my friend. I have questions that must be answered – and quickly. I'll be back by midnight."

"Of course. Take as long as you need."

Alana nodded, and walked to the edge of their little camp. Once again, everyone was watching her. She took a few running steps and leapt into the air, disappearing as she had the evening before. Again there was a soft swish and a gentle breeze, both of which were gone almost before they came. Bilbo turned a questioning gaze to Gandalf.

"Where did she go, Gandalf? And what did she mean about questions?"

"She is going to the stars, Bilbo. And as for her questions – I do not know what they are. I only know that if she is concerned, I ought to be as well. Hopefully the stars can give her the answers she needs."

"The stars will give her answers?" Fili asked incredulously. "How can that be?"

"They have not forgotten the Amator." Gandalf replied enigmatically.

"They have not forgotten the Amator?" Kili asked, mirroring his brother's question. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"The stars are the keepers of history. They do not easily forget – and if something is forgotten by them, it will never again be remembered in the skies or on the earth. They will tell her the answers to her questions, if they know. The stars are light – and light has no part with darkness. Light is the friend of all other light, and so the stars have always loved the Amator. The Amator are light. And they were the only people capable of reaching the stars, so they were the only ones the stars were ever personally acquainted with – and therefore they were the favorites of the stars."

"You speak as though the stars were alive, somehow." Kili noted.

"That I do, for indeed they are. You can ask her tomorrow, if you like, about the star-folk. She may tell you, or she may not. I make no promises. But you can certainly try. No one knows that people better than the Amator."

"You seem to know them fairly well." Thorin grunted, curious in spite of himself.

"Everything I know of them, I learned from the Amator. It is only through the Amator that any in Middle Earth know the of importance or the lives of the stars."

All the dwarves were listening intently.

"What are they like, the star folk?" Bilbo asked curiously.

"You should ask Alana. She will do a far better job than I of explaining anything to do with the star folk." Gandalf told him, with an air of finality.

No one woke when she returned at midnight. Gandalf was awake already – it was his turn on watch – and she simply nodded to him before collapsing on the ground with her pack pillowing her head as it had the night before.


	3. Blood Rage

**So, in this chapter we learn a bit more about the Amator... I know that it sounds really weird, but please bear with me, ok? It will make much more sense as the story progresses. I made my Amator the way that they are for a very specific reason. **

**Oh, and because I keep forgetting... Disclaimer! Anything recognizable belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien or C.S. Lewis. Alana and the Amator are my own, and are not to be used without my permission.**

**And now - on to the story!**

The next day, Bilbo asked Alana about the star-folk. She smiled, and promised to tell him about them another time.

"Sorry, Bill. I have a lot of thinking to do today. There are things I need to figure out, and quickly. I'll tell you another time, alright? You'll have to remind me – I might forget otherwise." She smiled down at the hobbit, who seemed rather pleased with the nickname.

"Bill?"

Alana laughed. "I'll probably have a nickname for every one of you by the end of the trip. Nicknames – they're just something I do." She lapsed into silence.

Several days passed in much the same way. Each day, Bilbo asked her about the star-folk, and each day she would smile and tell him to ask again tomorrow. The rest of the day she would be silent, lost in her own thoughts. Thorin completely ignored her existence.

One evening, as they made camp, Gandalf spoke up suddenly, addressing her for the first time in days. He seemed to understand that she needed to be left alone to think, and had done so. Now, however, he said, "Alana, how long ago did you have your drink?"

She glanced up. "Nine days. Why?"

"You'd better have it."

She was surprised, and then understood. "My eyes?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

At that, everyone noticed that her eyes had a small ring of red around the iris.

"I see. Strange, I shouldn't need it yet..." She trailed off as her eyes fell on Thorin, who, like the rest of the group, was watching curiously. "Oh. Well, that leaves little room for doubt."

"Whatever do you mean, my dear?" Gandalf asked, his voice slightly alarmed.

She shook her head. "I'll explain when we reach Rivendell. I'll have to get more of my powder there – new developments make me certain that I do not have enough after all."

"We're not going to Rivendell." Thorin growled.

Alana raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Then I'll have to make a detour."

Ignoring the irritating dwarf, Alana pulled a small paper packet sealed with wax and a small, intricately carved, wooden cup out of her pack. She accepted the water that Gandalf poured into the cup, and then tore the packet open with her teeth and dumped the contents into the water. She swirled the cup to mix the powder in.

As they watched, the red in her eyes became more pronounced. She took a sip of the drink in her cup, and the red started to fade.

"Alana?" Bilbo asked softly. He was by far the closest to Alana of all the company, excepting Gandalf, of course, and was the only one who dared ask about this. "Why are your eyes red?"

She looked up at him for a moment, then back at the cup in her hands. Ignoring the question, she took another sip.

"What is that?" Thorin asked, his voice something akin to a snarl.

Alana looked up again, and this time she answered. With a small, strange smile she said softly, "I don't think you really want to know."

"What is it?" He demanded.

She raised an eyebrow and took another swallow of the drink.

"I demand to know!"

"Thorin –" Gandalf started, but Alana cut him off with a raised hand.

"If he wants to know so badly, he may. It is no great secret, Gandalf, I merely think he would not appreciate the knowledge." She stood and handed Thorin the cup.

He inspected the thick red liquid it contained. After a moment he smelled it, then dipped the tip of one finger and brought it to his lips. The moment he tasted it, he spat on the ground.

"Blood!" He cried in disgust, and threw the cup away from the campsite. Well, he tried to throw it away. Alana caught it without spilling a drop the moment it left his hands.

"_Mine_, if you don't mind!" Then she tipped her head back and downed the contents. Shaking her head, she made a face, and then she rinsed out the cup and shook the water she rinsed it with into the fire.

"Why do you drink blood?" Thorin growled, his hand on his sword.

"Chill. I don't drink it because I want to – I hate the stuff."

"Why do you drink it if you don't want to?" Bilbo asked gently, trying to diffuse the tension that was building.

"I have to. It is another peculiarity of my people, Bill. We need blood. It fuels us, allows us to control our powers. Without it, we lose control and go on a rampage until we have drunk sufficient blood to regain control, and then we wake up with no recollection of what happened. This is what we call blood-rage. I must drink blood every so often, or I will go into blood-rage and kill you all without knowing what I am doing."

"And how many men have you killed to keep yourself from blood-rage?" Thorin asked accusingly. "How can we trust you when you may take our blood at any time to save yourself?"

"We do not drink man-blood. No, nor elf-blood, nor dwarf-blood, nor hobbit-blood. I will overlook your insult due to your ignorance, but I tell you now – _never_ say such a thing of my people again."

"Do you drink animal blood then?" Kili asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. "What kind of blood was that?"

"Rabbit. It is my preferred blood, as it is less awful than other varieties. Yes, animal blood is all that I drink."

"Why do you need blood to control yourselves?" Kili asked.

"Blood is life, Ki. The Amator wield the forces of life."

"Blood is _life_?" Dwalin asked, confused. Thorin looked furious that the other dwarves weren't as upset about this as he was.

"Yes. What happens to a warrior with a fatal wound, Dwalin? He bleeds. If he loses enough blood, he will die. The life is in the blood. Blood is life – but blood is death also."

"What do you mean?" Ori asked.

"The best illustration I can give is the downfall of the draghonar."

"The draghonar? What are the draghonar?" Fili asked.

"They were Amator, once. But they began to drink blood for pleasure, rather than out of need. The more they desired it, the more their bodies required it. They began to take the blood of the peoples they were charged to protect – men, elves, dwarves, and all peoples of light. At last they stooped even to drinking the blood of living men, taking it from their captives until they killed them. Do you see? Blood is life – it is life to you, and life to me. But blood is also death – it is death to the draghonar and their victims. This is why my people hate the draghonar – and the hate of the Amator is not easy to earn. It burns bright and fierce, even as do our loyalty and our love. They kill the ones we protect – kill for pleasure. They smear the name of the Amator, for though they no longer belong to my people, they still look like us, and the unpracticed eye cannot tell one from the other at times. This at least has changed – they no longer walk as I do, but are condemned to live only in second-form."

"Second-form?" Balin asked, genuinely interested. "What is that?"

"Sorry, I won't answer that. I think it would be better if that particular question was left until a later time – perhaps until I'm fighting Smaug. What is it Bill?"

The hobbit was deep in thought. When she questioned him, he looked up with a strange expression on his face.

"Have you – What I mean to say is... I mean, well – Have you ever drunk man-blood?"

"Bilbo!" Gandalf reproved. "Did you not just hear her say that the Amator do not do such things?"

"No, it's alright." Alana murmured, pushing lightly on Gandalf's arm. "Actually, Bilbo, I have."

The whole company stared at her, horror-struck. Even Gandalf was shocked.

"Why?" Bilbo whispered.

"Who?" Kili whispered at the same time.

"It was my dear friend and brother, Peter. I had fought and finally killed a draghonar, but his lair was in the middle the waste, far from any life. All creatures fear the draghonar. I was weakened by the fight, critically injured. And when my people are in the presence of the draghonar, their dark magic affects us. We need blood more often when we are near draghonar magic, because their death strives to kill the life within us. I was on the verge of blood-rage, fighting it with everything I had. Peter was with me, and I knew that if I went into blood-rage I would kill him.

"I begged him to leave me, to run, to hide. But we both knew that it would be almost impossible for him to escape me once it was finally upon me. Instead of running, he drew his knife and cut his own arm, putting it to my mouth. He commanded me to drink, and I had no choice but to obey. I took only enough to give me control until we could reach a less desolate place where I could obtain other blood, and then I healed him.

"So yes, I have drunk man-blood. Doubtless it is the least terrible I have ever tasted, and because Peter was very much alive, it lacked the bitter taste of death. I know now why the draghonar drink the blood of living men. But I swore an oath – never again. Never again will I fail to carry enough powdered blood to control myself. I never want to taste the blood of one of the peoples of light again."

"The peoples of light?" Balin asked.

"Yes – men, elves, dwarves, and all other peoples like them, intelligent peoples with a consciousness of right and wrong. Orcs and trolls and all evil peoples of that nature have also a consciousness of right and wrong, but they are dark peoples. They serve the darkness. I and my people are tasked with protecting the peoples of light."

The dwarves, excepting Thorin, were all gathered in a circle around Alana, with Bilbo as well. Gandalf stood a little back from the group, stroking his beard thoughtfully. His gaze flicked back and forth between Alana and Thorin, who stood by himself, fists clenched and jaw set.

"You." The dwarf snarled.

Alana looked up in surprise. "I have a name, you know." She said pleasantly.

"You are no longer welcome in this company. You are a woman, you are of a race that no one besides Gandalf has ever heard of, you talk to stars, and you drink blood! You have no place among us."

"Thorin!" Gandalf snapped. "That is quite enough. _I_ invited Alana; she came at _my_ request, not yours. You have no right to order her to leave. Alana, I deeply apologize. I don't know what's gotten into him – he can be quite polite and very pleasant when he chooses."

Alana gave Gandalf a knowing look. "You may not know, but I do." She murmured, then stood. "Perhaps it would be best if I leave, for now. But first, you and I must have a chat – and I did promise Bilbo I'd tell him about the stars."

The dwarves all stared at her in surprise as she turned to Bilbo.

"Now then – let's see. What exactly has Gandalf told you of the stars?"

"They are the keepers of memory, the Amator are the only ones who can reach them, and consequently are their favorites..." Bilbo trailed off. "But how can a people live in the heavens? And how can they glow like the stars do?"

"The star-folk were created to live in the heavens. I imagine that young stars wonder how the peoples bound to earth can live. As a young Amator, I often wondered how the other peoples could be bound to one or the other – I remember asking my father, once, if it did not cause some to go mad to lack either the freedom of the air or the support of the land. He laughed, I recall, and told me that a people who has known nothing else does not know what they lack, and so are quite content.

"As for the stars' light; Illuvatar has given each people different gifts. Dwarves are builders and craftsmen, and I've never found better metalwork than that made by a dwarf who knew his trade, nor a city better built than one built by dwarves. Elves work with living things, and plants and animals flourish when they are near. Men are warriors, among other things, and few even among the elves are the match in strength and swordplay of certain men I have known. Hobbits I know very little of, I am afraid. However, I see already that they are a people of peace who genuinely care for those around them – a rare gift. Amator are protectors of all light races, and gifts have been given us to help us in our work. And the stars were given light, and memory. Their light reminds others that there is life away beyond the evils we face on the ground, life as yet untouched by darkness. Their light is strength, love, joy, hope, peace."

"But how do they _make_ the light?" Kili asked.

Alana laughed. "How do dwarves come by their beards? Stars don't have to _make_ it; it is simply a part of them. What did you have to _do_, Ki, to make your hair dark? What did Gloin have to do to make his red? It is simply a part of who you each are. And it is the same for the stars."

"Do they speak the common tongue? Do they have their own language?" Balin asked. He was more of the scholarly type, with a greater interest for such things.

"They speak every tongue known on Middle Earth, even the dark tongues. They have to, for they are the keepers of memory, after all. But they do have their own tongue. The Amator know it, we have always known. Which brings me to another point; while Gandalf was not entirely wrong to say we are their favorites because we are the only ones who can reach them, he was not entirely right either. It is said that the Amator and the stars were created hand-in-hand. The stars are also guardians of the light peoples, just as the Amator are. We work in different ways, but we do the same job nonetheless. The stars are dear to the hearts of the Amator, even as the Amator are dear to the hearts of the stars. This is reflected in our languages; though distinctly different, the tongue of the stars and the tongue of my people are very similar. Enough so that we could communicate very basic information while each speaking our own tongues. But that isn't necessary, for every star and every Amator intuitively know the language of the other people.

"Now then, any more questions?"

"What are they like?"

"They are just people, Bill. Just like you or me. Some of them are curious, like you, some are chipper and energetic, like me, some are enigmatic, like Gandalf, and some are grumpy, like Thorin."

Thorin jerked his head up and growled, but Gandalf spoke before he could.

"Don't antagonize him, Alana. Now then, if our friends' curiosity about the star-folk has been sated, you had something you wished to discuss with me?"

Alana nodded, her teasing smile from before instantly gone. "Yes, of a rather serious nature – and I think it would be better if we had our little chat in private."

Gandalf nodded in return and started away from the fire, with Alana following. Just on the edge of the firelight, the wizard turned and fixed the company with a stern glare.

"No eavesdropping." He commanded in a voice that brooked no disobedience. Then they were gone.

**If anybody figures second-form out - message me. :) Don't leave it in the reviews, cause then you'll spoil the surprise for everybody else! Special shout-out to anyone who figures it out! And lots of invisible lollipops and Snickers bars!**


	4. The Standubh

_Gandalf nodded in return and started away from the fire, with Alana following. Just on the edge of the firelight, the wizard turned and fixed the company with a stern glare._

_"No eavesdropping." He commanded in a voice that brooked no disobedience. Then they were gone._

"Now then, my dear, what is of so much concern to you that you went to the stars for answers?" Gandalf asked, clearly more worried than he was letting on.

"There is dark magic – or the effects of dark magic – at work in this group, Gandalf. Draghonar magic."

Gandalf sighed, and nodded. "I was afraid of that, what with your eyes. Your drink wore off much faster than it should have."

"Yes. I should have been fine for another week. I would understand needing it a few days sooner – magical travel tends to have that effect, and the journey from my brother's kingdom was long and difficult. But even then, I should have been fine until the end of the week. The fact that I needed it so quickly can only be indicative of draghonar magic."

"But you went to the stars before you had received that warning sign. What caused your concern originally?"

It was Alana's turn to sigh. "I have had many dealings with my fallen kin, Gandalf – I am one of the fiercest and most experienced fighters that Amator can boast, and saying so is not a boast of my own. You know this, Gandalf, it is why you sent for _me_ to help you."

"Yes, yes. I do know it my dear, and you are quite right – I sent for you in particular because the draghonar we will face is one of the most powerful and most cruel, and you are probably the only Amator alive who can hope to challenge him with any success. But what do you mean?"

"What I mean Gandalf, is that I am very sensitive to my enemy. I can tell their handiwork, and I can sense their magic, even if that work was done many years ago. I see the effects of their handiwork in Thorin. And I feel the lingering traces of dark magic when I am near him. I went to the stars to learn of any dealings, good or evil, that his family has had with the draghonar. And what I found left me with little doubt, and grave concerns."

"What did you learn?" Gandalf demanded.

Alana fixed the wizard with a look that nearly made him tremble. "Gandalf, what do you know of the Standubh?"

He paled slightly. "The dark stone..." He murmured. "When Rajani died, his set his magic in the stone, that it might continue working evil even when he could do so no longer. As Rajani means 'the dark one', this stone became known as Standubh, 'dark stone'. But it was almost lost to memory, until the stars reminded your people of its existence. By then, even they could not say where it was. So even to this day, no one knows where Rajani set it when he died." He paused. "What of it?"

Alana turned her face to the sky. "It has been found."

Gandalf muttered a curse under his breath.

"The stars knew of it when it was found, but by that time my people had left this world, going to places where the draghonar still rage fierce. They were unable to reach us, and so they watched and waited. They knew that one day Amator would return. And when I did, they were ready with what they knew."

"Who found it?" Gandalf asked.

"I know not the name of the dwarf. But it was quickly claimed as the special property of his king – Thror of Erebor. It was not the legendary golden treasury of Thror that drew Smaug to the lonely mountain. It was the draw of power, the magic of the Standubh."

"How can this be?" The wizard marveled. "How could I not have known of this?"

"It was right under your nose, and you did not see it. Nay, that is no fault to you! None outside the heavens had any knowledge of its appearance. It has been generations since the stone was lost, and even the stars hardly remembered what it looked like. They did not realize immediately when it was found, only when it began to affect Thror. You have no idea what it looks like, and you had no idea it was found. Why should you suspect the gem treasured by Thror to be the dark stone of Rajani? Do not be angry with yourself. You did not know."

"But what stone was it then? You speak as though it were famous."

"It is. Very famous. Thror knew not its true name, and he called it the Arkenstone."

Gandalf jerked in surprise. "The Arkenstone? The legendary stone of light? How can the Arkenstone be this dread thing of darkness?"

"A lie will always masquerade as the truth, Gandalf." Alana murmured. Her tone was grave. "The Standubh is no exception – darkness masquerading as light."

"But Alana, I do not quite understand how the stone would affect _Thorin_. He was very young and, from what I understand, only Thror ever went near the stone."

"It is draghonar magic, Gandalf! It didn't need him to hold it in order for it to affect him. It affected his grandfather and the weakness was passed down to his father and then to him. Draghonar magic is complex, and difficult to understand. Anyway, it doesn't matter to you _how_ it affected him, let me worry about that. All you need to understand is that it _did_ in fact, affect him. He has a good heart, Gandalf, I know. I can feel that at his core, he is not evil. But the heart is one thing, and the mind another. His mind is diseased, Gandalf. It has been poisoned. That is why he hates elves so – elves are workers of light magic, and they may be able to detect the dark magic at work in him. So the stone has twisted his mind so that he thinks elves evil. The magic has deceived his mind in order to protect itself. It is that same reason he hates me. He will slowly fall into madness as his grandfather and father did, unless I can cure him. And the surest way to do that is to destroy the Standubh."

"Have you the strength to do that?" The wizard asked worriedly.

"No. I don't think so." Came the quick response. "Not if I have to fight Smaug first. The power it will take to kill him will weaken me significantly. And then the stone would prey on me, and capture my mind. It would kill my mind, and insert its magic in the place of my mind. I would become much like the Ringwraiths of old, neither living or dead, but forever a creature of darkness and blood. Enslaved to the stone. I cannot do this alone."

"Then what must be done?"

"If I can somehow destroy him without using too much of myself... But this is Smaug. It will be the hardest fight of my life, and I may not even triumph. No – I must send for help."

"But Alana –"

"Gandalf."

"I understand if you must call for help. I was not protesting that – but who will come? They are all busy. They all have worlds to protect. Only because there was no draghonar in your world at that time was I able to convince you to come. And even for that I, Gandalf the Grey, great wizard, had to all-but beg!"

"You know why I was hesitant to come."

"And I do not hold it against you. Of course your first allegiance is to the ones to whom you have sworn it. Naturally you could not come without their leave, not when you would leave their lands unguarded and helpless should any draghonar find their way into that world. But the others are all in similar situations. Who will come? Who will answer your call?"

Alana smiled slightly. "Ah, but there is a difference between us, my friend. Several, in fact. I am Amator, and you are not. I am Alana, champion of Amator, and you are not. And I am Queen Alana, heir of the King and Queen of Amator, and you are not. The one that I call will come, if he can."

She turned away from the wizard. "I will go now. The more I am in the presence of Thorin, the easier it will be for the dark magic to affect me as well. Though at least now, I would be more wary than ever and not easily deceived. I will never be far away, call me if you need me. Teach Bilbo the tune as well, and Fili and Kili. Those two will not be far from Thorin if he needs help, and Bilbo might need it himself. Don't tell them what it's for – simply tell them that in response to their call, help _will_ come. And now, goodbye, my friend. I must hunt, and build up my supplies of blood powder."

With a wave, Alana disappeared into the night, leaving Gandalf to make his way back to the fire alone, deep in thought.

When he reached the others, Bilbo's voice jolted him back into his surroundings.

"Where is Alana?"

Gandalf looked up. "Alana? She left, as Thorin wished. And left me a great deal to think about, indeed. Are you happy now, my friend?" He asked Thorin, raising an eyebrow.

"Content." Thorin replied shortly.

"I see." Gandalf mused. His mind was whirling with everything he had just learned.

"What did she leave you to think about?" Thorin asked, already sounding less grouchy than he had for days.

"Hm?" Gandalf pulled himself out of his thoughts again. "Oh. She gave me new information about Smaug. Things I wish I had known a little sooner – what am I saying? Things I wish I had known a _lot_ sooner. Would that I could fly to the stars as the Amator do! Then I might have learned of this soon enough to make our task a little easier."

Thorin cocked his head. "Learned of what, exactly?"

Gandalf glanced up sharply and silently berated himself for his slip. It would be far better if Thorin didn't know, for now, what was going on. That went for all of them, actually.

"Oh, general information. Something about why Smaug came to _Erebor_ specifically, a few things of note about the stars, and a trait of Smaug's ancestors. Nothing you need to concern yourself with just yet – at least not until I've figured out exactly what I am going to do about the things I have just learned."

Thorin gave Gandalf a look, but the wizard was already locked in thought again. Soon after, they all settled down for the night, except Gandalf, who took the first watch so that he could think longer, and ended up watching and thinking all night.

Ten miles away, Alana made herself a secure nest of vines in the high branches of a tall tree. Once she was satisfied that the vines would not break during the night, she curled up and slept staring vacantly through the leaves at the stars above her.

Alana put out the fire under the metal tray she had set on two rocks. Carefully she tapped the tray, making the dried blood on it crumble into powder. Then she tipped the tray slightly, allowing the powder to slide into the leather pouch she held. She watched the powder like a hawk, adjusting the tray so that she wouldn't spill a tiny bit. She needed every particle.

It was nearly dark. Once she had finished with the blood, she climbed a tree and made another nest. This had been the way of things for some time now, nearly a week. She stayed within several hours walk of the company – a few minutes flight. All day she hunted and carefully dried the blood, building up her supplies so that she was certain she would not run out. In a few days she would join the company again, just to check in with Gandalf, and then she would follow them along the road, moving in the brush so that Thorin would not be aware of her presence.

As she curled up in her vine hammock in the top of her tree, she sighed. She disliked blood-hunting, but it had to be done. Just as she was drifting off to sleep, the wind that whispered through the treetops brought a soft sound to her ears. Someone was humming, by the voice she would guess that it was Bilbo. And he was humming her mother's lullaby – the tune by which she had told Gandalf to summon her. Instantly, she left her nest and ran out on a thick branch. When she was far enough out, she leapt into the air and vanished to any watching eyes.

Rising in the air above the treetops, Alana beat her wings slowly and steadily. She scanned the ground below, and carefully smelled the air. She searched for the mingled scents of the company members. What she found nearly made her roar in anger. Mixed in with the distinct scents of Bilbo and the thirteen dwarves, was the foul reek of troll. Three trolls, in fact.

Anxiously, Alana searched the wind for Gandalf's scent, but found that he was quite a bit to the north of the company, and moving steadily farther away. She hesitated, but dove towards the trees underneath which the wizard walked. At her fastest speed, she reached Gandalf in two minutes. Beating her wings gently to stay airborne, she called out to him quietly in the deep voice of the form she had taken as she left the tree.

"Gandalf! Turn and hurry back to the company, they are beset by trolls!"

She did not wait for his response, but wheeled immediately and sped back toward the company. Judging by his scent, he had turned right away, and should be there in time to be of some help. Alana scanned the ground as the troll scent grew stronger, and spotted a fleck of light under the trees. When she got low enough to see what was going on, she nearly roared once more. About half the dwarves were tied to some sort of make-shift spit over the blazing fire, and the other half were tied up in sacks and strewn in a heap. Bilbo was hopping about in his sack, trying to distract the trolls' attention from cooking the dwarves immediately.

_He's playing for time!_ Alana thought happily. That hobbit had more sense than all the dwarves combined.

"E's ta'en us for fools!" One of the trolls growled, advancing on Bilbo.

_Oh, no you don't! _She would protect all the dwarves, particularly Thorin's young nephews, but _nobody_ touched her hobbit.

Alana growled, immediately drawing the attention of dwarves, hobbit, and trolls alike to the sky. Fortunately, she was still hidden. She tucked her wings close to her body, and plummeted towards the troll closest to Bilbo. As she fell, she changed to her human-form and drew her sword with her left hand. A moment before she landed on the troll, she allowed the shadows that kept her hidden to fall away.

The troll stumbled from the force of her impact.

"You will not touch him!" She shouted, as she slashed at its head with her sword.

"You will not touch any of them!"

She leapt from the back of the first troll into a tree, and from there onto the shoulder of the second troll. She drew a knife mid-flight and when she landed she swept it across the troll's face and eyes, blinding it. It screeched and flailed about, and she jerked its head to the side, so that it stumbled right into the fire and knocked the spit and tied dwarves far from the flames.

Ducking away from the hand of the third troll, which tried to grab her, she slid to the ground. Raising her sword, she darted around it, cutting at its legs so that it howled in pain. As she slashed it, however, a giant hand grabbed her and held her aloft. The first troll had caught her, and was glaring down at her with hate filled eyes as it held her upside down by her legs. Blood dripped down its arm from the wound on its head.

"Well, well, what 'ave we 'ere?" He asked, shaking her roughly.

"Put me down." She demanded calmly.

The troll shook with menacing laughter.

"Put you down? It tol' me to put it down!" He roared to the other two.

"Kill it! Kill it quick!" Whimpered the one she had blinded.

"If you don't put me down, you will wish you had." Alana warned, still in her calm tone.

The trolls laughed again, and she smirked.

"Don't say I didn't warn you!" With that, she blew softly at his face. To the extreme surprise of all present, fire appeared out of nowhere, and the troll dropped her with a scream of pain. It brushed at its face, whacking itself until the flames were gone.

The third troll made a grab for her, but she leapt into a tree again. Once she was sure she was out of their reach for a moment, she threw back her head and began to sing. She sang in a language none of them had heard before, but, oddly enough, the dwarves and Bilbo were able to understand her.

"I am the daughter of the sunshine; I am the child of the rain! Guardian of failing goodness, I pass through fire, darkness, pain.

"I dance across the paths of all time, and none can stand to stay my way. Care of the worlds – that charge is mine, I break the night to bring the day!

"So hear my voice ye lights of heaven, and hasten quickly through the night! As dawn breaks o'er the lofty mountains, let darkness give way to the light!"

As she finished her song, Gandalf appeared on a rock at the edge of the clearing.

"The dawn will take you all!" He shouted.

"Who's that?" The blind troll asked.

"No idea." Grunted the one with the head wound.

"Can we eat 'im too?" Asked the third troll, whose legs she had slashed and wounded.

Gandalf brought his staff down on the rock he stood on, and it split in half, revealing the first light of dawn. Soft, pale sunlight streamed into the clearing. The trolls cried out and groaned, and were turned to stone.

Although they were relieved, all the dwarves were puzzled. Dawn shouldn't have come for several hours yet! Bilbo, however, figured it out. Somehow, the sun had responded to Alana's song. Eventually all the company came to that conclusion.

Alana dropped out of her tree, and moved to Bilbo's side.

"You alright Bill?" She asked, as she cut through his sack so he could wriggle out of it.

He glanced up at her and nodded. She smiled down at him.

"Good thinking, playing for time. Couldn't have done it better myself!" With another approving smile, she moved over to the dwarves tied to the spit.

"Goodness." She murmured, examining the knots. "What a mess!"

After sawing at a knot for a moment, she sighed. "These'll take hours to cut through. Hang on guys – I'll have to burn them off."

The dwarves shouted protests, but she didn't listen. She blew, very softly, on each knot – and smothered the flame with her hand the moment the rope was burned through. In this way, all the dwarves on the spit were soon freed. By the time she was done her work, Gandalf had gotten the other dwarves and Bilbo untied.

Alana went over to Gandalf and Thorin just in time to hear the dwarf ask, "And what brought you back?"

"Looking behind me." Gandalf said, raising his eyebrow. Then he smiled at her over Thorin's shoulder, making the dwarf aware of her presence. "Alana came and found me – she told me that you were beset by trolls and I'd better come quickly. But by the time I reached you, she'd already taken care of matters."

Thorin looked back to see her standing there.

"And what brought _you_ to us?"

"You didn't think I was gone forever, did you? Sorry, but you can't get rid of me that easily. I'm willing to keep my distance, but when you need me I _will_ come. There are more lives at stake here than your own, Thorin Oakenshield. Now, if you will pardon me, I'm going hunting for a troll cave. There must be one nearby – they had to have some place to hide during the day. You can find all sorts of useful things in troll-caves, if you don't mind the smell, that is. Coming, Gandalf?"

Alana moved off into the trees, going at a half-skip. Gandalf gave Thorin a look, and followed. Reluctantly Thorin went after him, and Bilbo and the rest of the dwarves trailed along behind.

Up ahead, Alana carefully smelled the air. She led the way through the forest until they found a rough track, clearly made by the creatures that were now only stone statues. With a jubilant smile, she jogged up the track until she reached the door of the cave.

It was locked. Of course it would be, she only tried the knob to be sure. With a smirk, she glanced over her shoulder and said, "Stay back."

Gandalf smiled as Alana then blew on the door. Once again flames appeared from thin air, and within a moment there was nothing to bar their way. With a grin at Gandalf, who merely shook his head at her, Alana led the way into the troll cave. She almost instantly spotted several swords on a rack, and called Gandalf's attention to them. Two of them were of elvish make – some of the best blades ever made. Gandalf took one, and Thorin the other. The dwarf would have left it where it was when he found that it was elvish, had Gandalf not snapped at him and told him that there were few blades better.

"Here, Alana." A quiet voice spoke behind her.

Alana turned to see Bilbo standing shyly before her, Fili and Kili right behind him – both wearing cheeky grins.

"Yes? What is it Bill?" She decided to ignore the other two for the moment.

"Will you wear this for us? Please?"

He placed something in her hand. She almost gasped when she looked at it, but managed to stop herself, although she couldn't quite conceal her shock.

"Where did you find this?" She asked, almost breathlessly, immediately gaining everyone's attention.

"It was with the gold. We thought – since Amator are dragon-slayers – that you might like it." Kili explained.

Alana stared at the bracelet in her hands. It was made of gold, but on it was a small dragon made of tiny green gems. Her mind wandered to the last time she had seen this bracelet...


	5. Of Wargs and Elves

Previously...

Alana stared at the bracelet in her hands. It was made of gold, but on it was a small dragon made of tiny green gems. Her mind wandered to the last time she had seen this bracelet...

_"__Mama, can I look at your bracelet?" Alana asked._

_ "__Of course, sweetie." Her mother smiled, pulling the gold band off her wrist and handing it to her daughter._

_ "__Tell me the story again, Mama?"_

_Her mother laughed. "Well, a very long time ago, a powerful Amator became evil and turned into a draghonar. He changed his name to Rajani. When he died, he put his power into a special stone – we call it the dark stone. The king and queen of Amator, Sargon and Malka, knew that someday another draghonar would come, even more evil than Rajani was, and would find the stone. This new draghonar would become so powerful that no Amator could fight it and win. So they had a special bracelet made, and when they died they put their own power into it. That way, when the heir of Rajani arose, an Amator champion would have the power to fight him. The heir of Amator must defeat him, or all Amator and all the worlds we protect will be destroyed by the heir of Rajani. This bracelet is the bracelet that King Sargon and Queen Malka put their power into – but no one knows that except for the Amator. The draghonar do not even know that it exists; so you must not tell anyone about it."_

_ "__I _know_ Mama, you tell me every time!"_

_ "__Do you want to hear the rest of the story or not?" Her mother asked, with a teasing smile._

_ "__Yes, I want to hear."_

_ "__Then listen quietly. This bracelet was entrusted to Sargon and Malka's children, and has been passed down, hand to hand, through the line of the royal family. When the heir of Rajani arises, and the heir of Amator comes forth, we will give the bracelet to him so that he can triumph over the draghonar. And he will wear it until the end of his life. Then, if he was able to destroy not only Rajani's heir, but the dark stone as well, it will be destroyed. But if he was not able to destroy the dark stone, the bracelet will be kept longer. That way when another draghonar rises, another champion can use the power in the bracelet to finally destroy the stone."_

_Alana sighed dreamily. "Mama, when do you think the heir of Amator will come?"_

_ "__I don't know darling. Not until the dark stone is found. And I pray that will not be for many an age. But now you must go to sleep, my little Ala."_

_ "__Yes Mama."_

Tears filled Alana's eyes. That had been the last time she had seen her mother.

Amator are immortal like the elves, though like the elves they can die in battle, or of a broken heart. But when an Amator has lived many years and had a long rich life, they will sometimes go far into the wilderness alone, and there give up their lives. They did _not_ kill themselves; they simply allowed their life force to leave their bodies. Alana's mother was old, and grieving her fallen husband. Alana had been born just before her father died, and her mother raised her alone. That night her mother knew that it was time.

She had slipped out quietly, leaving her young daughter in the care of her own brother and sister, who ruled in her place until the child was old enough to rule by herself. At the time that she came of age, Alana had been crowned queen. However, according to custom and her own wishes, her aunt and uncle continued to help her rule. She traveled a great deal, as all the Amator did, and was rarely to be found in the Amator capital. (The fact that Amator wander was one of the main reasons for the way the monarchy was set up.) But the memory of her last night with her mother still pained her.

"Thank you." Alana said at last, very softly. "A blessing on you, all three of you, for finding this. It was lost, many years ago, and has caused me a great deal of worry." Carefully she put it on her wrist, then looked up at Gandalf. "And now there is real hope. For now I see – if the heir of Rajani has arisen, then I am the heir of Amator. Perhaps I shall not have to send for the one I meant to call, after all."

That was when Gandalf realized what the bracelet was – and his surprise and shock showed clearly on his face.

Alana gave him a look before he could say anything, and then turned and left the cave.

"What was that about?" Dwalin wondered aloud.

"I believe that the bracelet is of some sentimental value to Alana." Gandalf said quietly, looking very thoughtful. He had known Alana long enough to know much of her life story, and knew what the bracelet meant on a more personal level, as well as the power it contained. Alana hadn't quite obeyed her mother – those she deemed trustworthy she had told if they had good reason to know.

"Sentimental value?" Thorin asked, obviously not convinced.

"Yes." Gandalf answered shortly. When Thorin was about to question again, he snapped, "Drop the subject, Thorin. There will come a time when you must understand, but that time has not come yet. Alana and I know exactly what that bracelet is, and that is all that matters at this moment."

The wizard turned and left the cave. A disgruntled Thorin found himself following again. A few moments later the rest of the company finished poking about in the rubble inside the cave and came out as well.

Alana smiled at Bilbo, Fili, and Kili, and told Gandalf, "I'll be going then. You know how to get ahold of me."

He nodded, and she ran up the path before jumping and disappearing as she had done several times now. It was a quiet group of dwarves that moved on.

Alana hummed to herself as she jogged towards Rivendell. She was fairly sure that Gandalf would find a way to bring the dwarves there in spite of Thorin's objections, as they needed Lord Elrond's help. But there was nothing to stop her from getting there before them. However, once again, the sound of humming stopped her. It was rough and the tune was broken up with heavy breathing, as though the person were running. She recognized the voice.

It was Kili.

Alana turned midstep and leapt up, vanishing from sight. She spread her wings the moment they appeared and soared toward the source of the humming. Now that she was in her natural form instead of human-form, she could smell far better than she had been able to a minute ago. The sense of smell was very important to the Amator, and when she was in her human-form she was always uneasy and distressed by not being able to check the scents on the air every few seconds, like she tried to do from habit.

Alana tucked her wings and dove towards the company. Heavy in the air was the scent of fear, as well as orc and warg. She landed, still unseen, between the evil creatures and the last of the fleeing dwarves. Kili, who was still humming raspily, was nearly cut off from the others as he desperately defended his kin with the only long-range weapon the group had – his bow. He fired arrow after arrow, but the wargs were closing in. Alana was momentarily blinded by her rage, and knew that she had to get back into human-form quickly, before she lost it and revealed herself.

The moment she was in human-form, she allowed the cloaking shadows to disappear and launched herself at the warg nearest Kili with an angry shout that instantly had the attention of everyone on the field; orc, warg, and company members alike.

"HEY!" She ended the warg's life with a single slash of her sword and turned to meet the blade of an orc.

"You want the dwarf?" She growled. "You'll have to go through me first!"

As she fought, and arrow whizzed past her head and killed one of the wargs that was attacking her. She glanced over her shoulder to see Kili standing there, reloading his bow.

"Go, Ki! I'll take care of this; you get back with the company! A small pack like this is nothing to me after I have fought the great dragons of Shideh."

Kili looked hesitant, but did as she said. He turned and ran to where the rest of the company had disappeared behind a low rock. Only Thorin was still waiting for the brave archer. The moment Kili reached him; Thorin pulled the dwarf down behind the rock. Alana grinned as she fought. Thorin must not know where the passage behind the rock led. That would be an entertaining scene, she thought – he would pitch a fit when he found out.

Hoof beats pulled her from her concentration on the fight. She glanced about quickly, and saw a company of elves approaching. They bore the colors of Rivendell. Alana recognized the tall figure on the leading horse, and wondered if Elrond would remember her. Elf arrows rained down on the evil creatures around her, falling thick and fast. With a soft gasp she hid herself in shadow and took first-form so that if she was struck by a stray arrow she would not be hurt.

As the last of the wargs fell, its rider struck by a second arrow at the same moment, the elves regrouped. Elrond scanned the field, and called out softly.

"Amator! Whoever you be, show yourself."

"What makes you think I am Amator?" She asked with a smile in her voice, though she remained hidden. He swung to face the place that her voice came from.

"No other people has the ability to simply disappear from view. The elves have no quarrel with your people. You have no need to hide. Show yourself."

Alana smiled and took human-form. A moment later the elves in the company who had not had dealings with Amator before gasped as she appeared before them.

Elrond looked at her a moment before smiling slightly. "Queen Alana. You have returned to Arda."

"I wondered if you would recognize me." She replied.

"It has not been so long since the Amator left."

"No. Not here. But it has been many ages in the other worlds. I have changed greatly since I saw you last."

Elrond smiled again, and reached down. Alana took the offered hand and he pulled her onto his horse behind him. As they rode to Rivendell, he questioned her about her presence in Arda.

"I had heard that a powerful draghonar had found its way into Arda. I returned to destroy the enemy of the light peoples. I am Amator, after all, and hate draghonar above all evil things."

As they rode across the bridge, Elrond tensed. A group of dwarves stood on the other side. The elves circled the dwarves before falling into formation and riding further into Rivendell. Elrond, however, dismounted and reached up to help Alana down, as a gentleman should. She accepted his assistance – although she really didn't need it – with a quiet word of thanks, all the while very aware of Thorin's angry glare.

Elrond turned and greeted Gandalf in elvish, before welcoming the dwarves. They were disgruntled, but followed him when he offered them food.

Alana went to Kili.

"You alright, Ki?"

He looked up at her, startled because he had not heard her coming. "Yes. Thank you."

She smiled, but frowned when he asked, "Why were you with Elrond?"

"Does it matter?" Alana asked, raising an eyebrow.

"He is an elf." Kili muttered.

"Yes. He is. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. He led a group of his men against the wargs, and found me fighting. We know each other of old – he fought alongside me and my people against the dragons of the north in the early days when they were young and strong. King Thranduil of the Greenwood was with us as well."

Kili nodded, his face slightly red. He hadn't meant to earn a rebuke from her.

"I'm sorry. I spoke without thinking..."

"You spoke as your uncle does." Alana answered shortly, her face stern with disapproval. Underneath it, however, was a hint of worry. Abruptly changing the subject, she asked, "Are you related to Thorin on your father's side or you mother's?"

"Mother." He answered, wondering.

The worry in her face cleared slightly. "Good. That is good..." She looked away and murmured softly enough that he had to strain to hear, "Less of it will come through that way. I pray that I won't have to deal with it in three places. How I hoped that they would both be unaffected... But perhaps they are. Most dwarves do not like elves, why should he be any different? Perhaps that was not the effects of the Standubh, only the example of those around him. It could be. I shall have to talk with Gandalf again, and keep a closer eye on all three of them until I am sure."

Kili glanced at Alana, confused, but she was staring at the sky. She did not seem to realize that he had been able to hear her.

**Alana's got connections in Middle Earth. :) What do y'all think of that, eh?**


	6. Falling Through the Night

**Sorry I've kept y'all waiting! It builds the suspense, you know. Useful author's trick. ;)**

The next day, Thorin woke them all before sunrise.

"Get up. We are leaving."

"Where's Gandalf?" Ori asked.

"He's sending us on ahead. Said he'll catch up. Come on, you two! Up!" He shook his nephews out of their blankets.

Alana was standing nearby, staring at the ridge where the first hint of light that heralded the coming day showed gray above the rocks.

"Alana?" Bilbo asked. "Are you coming with us?"

She turned and smiled at him. "Yes, Bill. And no. I will not be right with you, but I will always be within reach. You know how to call me if you need me, so do Fi and Ki. Thorin doesn't want me actually with you, and I need to respect that. Besides – I have things to do."

"Like what?" Thorin grunted, glaring at her suspiciously.

"There are a few things I promised Gandalf I would look into for him, which may mean another trip to the stars, or even several more. And I need to send a message to a friend, as I may end up needing help later on. Smaug is a powerful dragon, and although I am a powerful Amator, I may not be strong enough to defeat him on my own. Now, if you will excuse me, I'll be off." She turned to the wall beside them, and they knew she was about to jump off of it.

Suddenly she stopped and turned back to Thorin. "Be very careful in the mountains. They are teeming with life; I can sense it from here. And most life in the Misty Mountains is evil. Orcs and goblins are on the move. The pass Gandalf has sent you to is safe for now – but it may not be by the time you reach it. Stay out of caves, unless you have no other choice. Above all, avoid fire. If you get in trouble because you foolishly started a fire, I will be rather angry. And an angry Amator is not something you want to face, trust me."

Thorin nodded. Although he hated the Amator (though even he wasn't sure why he did) he could see the wisdom in her words. However, he couldn't help but say roughly. "Very well. But I am not afraid of your anger."

Alana laughed lightly. "You haven't seen it yet."

Then she turned and leapt off the wall, vanishing again.

"I will never get used to that." Fili muttered as he packed up his bedroll.

Bilbo stumbled up the path at the end of the line of dwarves. They were well into the mountains, and it was raining hard. Lightning flashed and thunder cracked overhead, and all the members of the group were having trouble staying on the narrow track. Bilbo actually had an easier time than the dwarves; hobbits are known for being sure-footed.

Their way led along the wall of a cliff, with a vertical rock face above, and a vertical rock face below. They had to keep going though, as there was no place for them to stop on the two to three foot wide path. Stopping would be as dangerous as moving – and at least if they were moving they had a chance at reaching a safer place where they could halt with less risk.

The dwarves ahead of him were shouting something back and forth, but Bilbo couldn't hear it. Suddenly, the rocks they were climbing on split away from the rest of the mountain. Bilbo screamed, and was instantly thankful that the storm covered the noise. He didn't need to give Thorin another reason to treat him with scorn.

Kili stumbled toward him, trying to keep his balance on the now-moving path. If Bilbo hadn't caught his arm and steadied them both against the rocks behind them, the dwarf would have pitched head-first into the canyon below.

"Look out!" Kili shouted.

Bilbo looked up, and his eyes widened. Not only were they on a segment of rock that was moving on its own, but it was about to smash into the cliff face. Instinctively he shoved Kili behind him, in a desperate effort to keep the younger man safe. As they got closer to the cliff, hope filled him. There was a narrow shelf that would stop them from actually colliding with the cliff, so they might not be crushed. And if they fell onto the shelf, they just might survive. With horror, however, Bilbo realized that he and Kili were too far over – they wouldn't be caught by the shelf. In the last few seconds, Bilbo grabbed Kili's arm.

"Jump to the left when I say." He ordered sternly. The moment before they hit the shelf he shouted, "NOW!" and shoved Kili as the dwarf jumped. The impetus of the shove, however, directed the hobbit the other way, and although Kili made it safely to the shelf, Bilbo fell. Flailing, he managed to catch hold of a rock jutting out on the cliff face.

He was going to die. He knew it. There was no way anyone on the shelf could reach him, he was too far down. They probably hadn't even noticed he wasn't with them, he realized with despair. He had only one hope. At the thought, Bilbo began to hum.

He could barely hear himself over the roar of the storm, but he hummed anyway. Somehow, Alana had heard him call when they had been caught by the trolls, and she had heard Kili call when they were being chased over the fields near Rivendell. Maybe, just maybe, she would somehow hear him now.

Movement above him caught his eye, and he glanced up to see dwarves peering over the edge at him. To his surprise and outright shock, Thorin did not hesitate to lower himself over the edge of the cliff so that he could reach the stranded hobbit. The dwarf caught hold of his wrist and hoisted him up high enough that the other dwarves could pull him to safety.

The rock Thorin was clinging to crumbled beneath his weight just as Dwalin and Bofur grabbed Bilbo's arms, however. Thorin slid down the cliff face, and by the time he was able to stop himself, he was far beyond any rescue attempts. Bilbo felt sick – Thorin would lose his life because he risked it to save the hobbit. Thorin looked up at his kin, all so far out of reach. He glanced at Fili, who paled at the intent in his uncle's eyes. Fili was Thorin's heir, and would be the leader of the quest now. Thorin nodded at his nephew and let go of the rock he was clinging to.

At that moment, however, as the dwarves and Bilbo stared down at their leader falling through the thick rain...

He stopped falling.

The roar of the storm grew, and some of the older dwarves shook their heads slightly, as if trying to clear a bad memory. For a moment, the storm almost sounded like an angry dragon. But, of course, that was ridiculous.

To the immediate shock of all involved, Thorin was then raised up to the level of the ledge and unceremoniously dumped on top of the other dwarves. They looked up in time to see Alana appear beside them on the ledge. She shook herself, water droplets spraying from her hair.

"Nasty storm. Reminds me of where I was born. It was always storming in those mountains. The grownups would talk about the inconvenience or the danger, but we kids loved to just sit and watch the wind blow the rain around. And the lightning against the jagged peaks! So beautiful." She tilted her head. "Though I think I now understand the grownups' point of view."

Thorin stared at her. "When did you get here?"

"About thirty seconds ago, just in time to see you let go."

"Why did you save me?"

Alana looked genuinely surprised. "Why wouldn't I?"

He stared at her, for once with no malice in his eyes.

"I have treated you with nothing but hate."

"So I should have just let you die? How could I simply watch you fall to your death? I am part of this company, whether you like it or not, and therefore you are my leader as much as anyone ever is my leader. Did I not respect your demand that I travel apart from you? I will obey you insofar as I am reasonably able to do so and still protect you." She responded gently, adding as an afterthought, "Besides, I am used to having people fear or hate me. All peoples have a tendency to look on the outward appearance and judge the character by it. My people – when we are in our true form – look like the draghonar, and people despise us for it. It ceased to really bother me long ago."

She turned and looked at the path behind them. "Rock giants, I'll warrant. Haven't seen one in forty-nine years. Not very friendly, but they can be reasoned with. They _were_ rock giants, weren't they?"

"Yes." Thorin answered shortly.

"Better find cover as quickly as possible then. They're very unpredictable. Until I can scout about to be sure they've gone, you don't want to be out in the open. I'll make you shelter if I have to, but that's very risky on my part, so I'd rather not if there are other options."

"There's a cave back here!" Someone called back to Thorin from behind an outcropping of rock.

Alana frowned. "Let me check it."

The dwarves obediently moved aside to let her pass. She inspected every inch of the cave, and puzzled them all by standing still in the back and deliberately smelling the air. Finally, she nodded at the cluster around the entrance.

"I think it is safe. Would that I had room to take second-form, so I could actually smell if there were orcs near." She added in a murmur, just loud enough for them to hear.

The dwarves and Bilbo all made their way into the cave, and began to set up bedrolls. Suddenly Alana jerked about, and stared at the storm outside. She stood tense, almost quivering, before muttering something and turning to Thorin.

"Our wizard seems to be having trouble with the storm as well. I must go help him. Listen to me Thorin; I do not like the feel of this place. The moment something seems suspicious, get out. Face the storm rather than the inhabitants of the mountain's core. Whatever you do, don't light a fire!"

With that, she was out the entrance and into the night.

**I always pictured Bilbo as being almost protective of the twins - yes, I call Fili and Kili twins. Yes, I know that they aren't really. I think they're twins at heart though. Anyway, I just _had_ to put in Bilbo saving Kili... **


	7. Goblin Town

***grins manically and shouts in weird Gru voice* "Assemble the minions! We have posted an update!"**

**Yeah, I know. I'm pretty wierd, eh? Well, this is what happens when I'm sick and tired and studying so hard that I think my brain's going to explode... And after my five minute break to post the next chapter, I have to get back to it. Oh joy! (Note the sarcasm)**

**Brief shout-out - thanks to both Loquacious Quibbler and Thalion Estel for the reviews! **

**Reviews seriously make my day... If you want me to update faster, you can always review. It's my motivation!**

Alana opted for running down the path rather than trying to fly in the storm. It would still be dangerous, but she was not likely to be blown off of it as Gandalf or the dwarves were. When she reached Gandalf, ten minutes later, he was leaning against the side of the cliff, trying to keep his balance.

"Need a hand?" She asked cheekily, skipping down to stand beside him.

He looked up and her and grumbled as he took her offered hand, "Oh yes, I knew you'd be in a chipper mood. You always are during a storm."

"Oh, come on, Gandalf. Listen to it roar! It is deadly, yes, but beautiful too."

Gandalf smiled slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Like you then. Deadly but beautiful."

She made a face at him, and continued to help him up the path.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

When Gandalf and Alana reached the cave, it was empty. Gandalf frowned and turned to his friend. "They aren't here."

Alana scowled. "Thank you for stating the obvious. I told them that I didn't like the feel of the cave, and that if there was anything remotely suspicious they'd better get out right away."

"Well then, I expect they're on the path." Gandalf answered, sounding relieved.

Alana shook her head. "Maybe. But even if they are, something spooked them. What was it? This pass is no longer safe. We need to find them, Gandalf, and quickly."

"Then we'd best get going, hadn't we?" Gandalf muttered, and reached for her arm again. He wasn't planning on going back out in that storm without her help.

"Wait." Alana closed her eyes and moved toward the back of the cave, carefully testing the air.

"What is it?" The wizard asked, growing more worried by the moment.

"I'm not sure – I can't quite smell it." The scent of dwarf was strong, as though they had only just left. But there was a tinge of smoke as well, and the dwarves had had no fire. There was a hint of some other kind of life, evil life, Alana thought. There was something else too; something that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Something that made her want to growl and roar and tear the cave apart looking for the dwarves and Bilbo, but she didn't know why.

Suddenly, she heard humming. It was Fili's voice. And it was coming from within the mountain. That was what the other scent was, she suddenly realized. Fear. Her dwarves were afraid.

Alana cursed. "They never made it back to the path. Fili is calling, and his voice is coming from the center of the mountain."

Gandalf paled. "Orcs. There must be some sort of door in here..."

"Go outside."

"What?"

Alana growled softly. "Get outside. Now. One of my dwarves is calling me, and I will get to him. You do not want to be in here while I find the door."

Gandalf hurried out. The moment he was clear of the door, he heard a roar from within.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Alana partially shifted to second-form. She couldn't totally shift, because there wasn't enough room in the cave. However, she shifted enough that she had the tremendous strength and long sharp talons of her kind.

With an angry roar, she let loose a stream of fire at the walls and floor. The fire was hot enough that it actually burnt the sand on the floor of the cave. Beneath where the sand had been, long cracks covered the rocks.

With another roar, this one nearly loud enough to shake the mountain, Alana tore at the floor with her claws, ripping it open crack by crack. When she was standing on the only piece of floor left, right inside the door, she carefully calmed herself down enough that she could completely take human-form again. Then she called Gandalf, and the two of them descended into the heart of the mountain.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

"Kill them! Kill them all!" The goblin-king shrieked. He was furious – the goblins had just found out that the sword Thorin bore was Orcrist, which they called the Goblin-cleaver or the Biter.

His followers swarmed the group of dwarves, scratching and clawing and biting. The dwarves fought back as best as they could without their weapons, but they were no match for the numbers they were up against.

Before any of them could be seriously hurt, however, a loud roar rang out and a blinding light flashed through the cavern. Goblins and dwarves alike fell to the ground, stunned. Two figures advanced out of the center of the light as it died away, leaving everything gray and dim.

"Take up arms. Fight." Gandalf said loudly, but calmly. Then, as the orcs began to recover, he shouted, "FIGHT!"

Alana leapt from her place at the wizard's side down into the middle of the dwarves. She grabbed several weapons from the pile on the ground as she went, and thrust them into the hands of their owners. As the dwarves began to fight the orcs and regained the rest of their weapons, Alana drew the long knives in her boots and threw herself into the advancing orcs. She continued to fight them until every dwarf was free of the meelee, and hurrying away with Gandalf as their guide.

"Alana!" Kili shouted over his shoulder.

"Just go!" She returned. "I'll cover you as long as I can."

Thorin looked back at the woman fighting for his men, and the dark magic at work in his mind lost its hold for a moment. He suddenly knew that he was wrong to hate and fear this woman, and wondered why he had treated her so even when she continued to help them in spite of his treatment of her. When the magic strengthened itself again, it found that it had lost ground. Thorin no longer hated the Amator woman.

Alana fought hard. As soon as the dwarves were out of sight she partially transformed, so that she had all the grace, flexibility, and strength combined of all three of her forms. She fought furiously, gradually working her way in the direction that Gandalf and the dwarves had gone. Suddenly, however, the orcs all ran away from her, heading toward where she knew the rest of the group would be. With a growl, Alana followed.

As she ran, she took human-form again. Alana didn't want the dwarves to know what the Amator forms were – not yet anyway – and the goblins weren't fighting her. They were ignoring her, even as she cut them down from behind.

Alana rounded a corner, and stopped short. In front of her, on a wooden bridge over a deep chasm, Gandalf stood before the goblin-king, with all the dwarves grouped behind him. They were surrounded on all sides by sneering, snarling orcs.

Kili – like the reckless youngster he was – leapt forward with his sword high. The goblin-king snatched him up, holding him aloft, upside-down, by his legs. His sword clattered to the floor.

"Kili!" Thorin and Fili shouted at the same moment.

"What are you going to do now, Wizard?" The goblin-king sneered.

Alana gathered her strength and leapt. She landed on the goblin's arm, and severed it with her sword – at the same time blowing flames at his face.

He shrieked in agony and stumbled back to avoid the flames, impaling himself on a mounted pike. Alana landed next to Kili, made eye contact with Gandalf... And cut the bridge the others were standing on away from the stone it was attached to.

The dwarves screamed and yelled, but the wooden structure they stood on was already sliding down the walls of the chasm. Alana grabbed Kili's arm, and dropped over the edge after them. The two were free-falling.

"What's the plan?!" Kili shouted, trying to be heard above the wind whistling in their ears.

"Try not to die!" She responded, and then flipped around below him so that he would land on her. She knew that the impact would hurt her, but not leave any lasting injury. Kili, however, would not survive without her help.

As she hit the boards of the now-broken bridge lying on the floor of the chasm, she shoved Kili up, breaking his momentum so that he wasn't falling so hard. He hit the boards lightly in comparison with Alana, and landed on top of her. She cushioned his fall, and he was able to stand almost immediately. He tried to help her up, but she shoved him down off the bridge.

"Lead them out, Gandalf!" Alana cried, gasping to get her breath back.

The wizard nodded, and shepherded the dwarves away, but Kili wouldn't leave her.

"I'll stay with you. You saved my life – I will help you."

Alana forced herself to sit, still gasping and murmured, "Go, Kili. Thank you, but there is nothing you can do to help me. I'll be alright, but you'll get killed." She pointed up at the hordes of goblins that were crawling down the walls toward them.

"Go."

"They'll kill you!"

She laughed breathlessly. "I doubt it. I'll hide myself, and burn any that get too close. Go, now."

Reluctantly, Kili followed the other dwarves. As he looked back over his shoulder, she disappeared from sight.


	8. Bilbo Knows

**Thanks to Thalion Estel for letting me know that I accidentally posted the wrong chapter... :) It has been fixed.**

**I am celebrating being done with the last of my finals for the quarter by updating! :)**

Alana waited, lying on the broken wood, until her strength came back. By that time, Gandalf and the dwarves were long gone. She had scented Bilbo too, as he slipped out of the side passages after the group. She wondered why he wasn't with the group, but her instinct told her that whatever he was doing, he had to do alone.

Finally, Alana rose and made her way down the passage and out of the mountain. It was dusk outside, nearly dark. She ran lightly down the mountain.

Ahead of her she heard growls and snarls. When she tested the air, she smelled wargs and orcs and the fear of her company. Why hadn't they called her? Were they alright?

Afraid for them, Alana leapt up and took second-form, beating her wings hard to climb above the trees. When she reached the company, she was horrified to find them all crowded into one tree that was hanging off the edge of a cliff. Its roots were shallow, and it would fall any moment! One of the dwarves had fallen and was now clinging to the ankle of another – she couldn't see who the two were through the smoke; all the surrounding trees were on fire, Gandalf's doing, no doubt – and he in turn was clinging to the end of Gandalf's staff, but his hands were slipping. She dove beneath them just as he lost his hold.

They screamed, falling – and then were brought up with a jolt as they landed on her back. But they still couldn't see her, and so had no idea what they had landed on. To them it seemed that they were simply floating in midair.

"Al-Alana?" One of them stammered hopefully, praying that their mysterious traveling companion who always showed up when they needed help had appeared again.

The voice that answered him resembled Alana's, but was deep and resonating. It was a smooth, gentle voice in spite of its deep tone and was strangely calming, but it could easily have been sinister with only the smallest change.

"Yes. I am here. Stay still."

They did as she said, terrified.

Alana threw her head back and roared, calling to the eagles that she knew resided in the mountains nearby. The eagles had always fought alongside her people, and she prayed that they would answer.

"Hold on – we're going to bank sharply." She told her scared passengers, and felt their hands scrabble at the scales on her back until they found a good hold.

Alana banked back toward the cliff and saw that Thorin was lying unconscious in front of a giant Orc mounted on a white warg – Azog the Defiler, no doubt – with only little Bilbo standing between them. As she watched, the warg flung him aside and then began to advance on the now-weaponless hobbit. At the last moment the remainder of the dwarves flung themselves into the burning fray, having finally managed to free themselves of the falling tree. Gandalf couldn't get out of the tree – for him the only way out was down. She'd have to worry about him later. There were more pressing needs at the moment.

With another roar to call the eagles, Alana let forth a stream of fire on the wargs and goblins ahead of the dwarves. She was very careful to aim her fire in a way that there was absolutely no chance that any of her dwarves could get in the way and be killed. Her fire was so hot that they wouldn't be hurt – they would die in an instant.

She banked about again to come back over the cliff, but suddenly beat her wings hard to slow and turn quickly. The eagles were coming.

"What are you doing?" One of the dwarves on her back cried. She still wasn't sure which ones she was carrying. "You can't leave now – they'll all be killed!" He cried desperately.

Alana ignored him, her entire focus centered on the approaching eagles.

"My lady?" One eagle called. "My lady, where are you? We heard the call of the Amator, and have come in answer."

"I am here." She answered shortly. "My company is in trouble, and I ask your help. Therefore two of you take these my dwarves and fly them to the Carrock. Do not leave them until I come. The rest of you, come with me to where the flames burn. I must get my dwarves out of there as quickly as may be – for the very fire that I kindled to protect them may prove their bane unless we move with great haste."

She promptly shook the two dwarves off her back, and they were each caught in mid-air by an eagle. With a glance over her shoulder to be sure they were alright, she flew back to the cliff. Just as the tree Gandalf was stuck in finally lost its hold on the cliff, she reached down with a taloned hand and plucked him from the branches. Before he could say a word, she tossed him onto the back of another eagle, who immediately flew off.

The eagles were diving into the heat from the fire and pulling her dwarves out. They would then drop them onto the backs of other eagles, who would head for the Carrock. Alana was pathetically grateful. She could have gotten them all out on her own except for the trees that would prevent her from landing. She couldn't just burn the trees away, as her dwarves would be in the way. And when she was airborne, she couldn't reach them! Without the eagles, it would have been impossible.

There was one dwarf she could reach, however. All the others had been removed, and now only Thorin and Bilbo were left. Alana landed heavily beside Thorin, lashing her tail about to break off a tree that was in her way. As she did so, she allowed herself to become visible.

Bilbo gasped. Alana raised her head to look at him, and made a sound in her throat.

"Now you know what I am."

"But… I thought –"

She growled, and he cut himself off with another gasp.

"I am not draghonar. They are the fallen ones. I am Amator. And though in this form we look the same, we are not the same. Learn your mistake, Bilbo and do not repeat it." Her voice softened.

"Now come. We will leave this place."

Bilbo hesitated a moment, and then moved forward confidently. He stepped onto the taloned hand that she held out, and she put him on her back. "Hold on."

He nodded.

Alana bent her head and nuzzled Thorin slightly. He was out cold. With something akin to a sigh, she carefully picked both him and his sword up in one hand. A moment later, after a single powerful beat of her wings, they were airborne. She hid herself again.

Silence surrounded them. Finally Alana asked quietly, "Are you afraid of me now, Bill?"

"No." Came the quick answer. "You are _you_ no matter what shape you take. I could never be afraid of you, Alana. I know you would never hurt me."

Although he couldn't see her, Bilbo could hear the smile in her voice as she replied. "I am glad."

Not long after that, the Carrock came in view. The eagles were circling it, waiting for her to arrive as she had told them to. They heard the air move beneath her wings and screamed in welcome as they circled.

At the sudden cacophony the dwarves and Gandalf scanned the sky, but Alana had hidden Bilbo and Thorin as well when she hid herself, so there was nothing for them to see. The dwarves looked down in disappointment, but Gandalf kept looking. He knew she was there.

"Alana!" The wizard called. "Do you have Thorin, and Bilbo?!" His words were quick with anxiety.

"Yes."

The single word soared through the air, lifting the head of every dwarf. Their leader and their burglar were both safe. They were disconcerted by the change in her voice however, and subconsciously moved closer together.

Alana landed on the Carrock, shaking the whole structure with the impact of her weight. The dwarves all stumbled and knocked into each other. Kili was almost knocked off the rock, but she stopped him from slipping off the edge with her tail, and pushed him back onto firm footing. He stared at the spot where she had touched him. It was clear that Alana had saved him – who else could have? Who else could be somewhere, and yet unseen? But he couldn't figure out what she had touched him with. What was that?

Bilbo slid off her back, and as he landed on the rock she allowed the shadows that hid him to drop away.

"Bilbo!" Balin exclaimed happily. Of all the dwarves, he was the closest to the hobbit.

"Where's Thorin?" Dwalin demanded roughly.

Alana set him down carefully, allowing him to become visible, and said softly, "He is unconscious."

Then she took human-form and became visible herself.

"Aside from our leader, is anyone hurt?"

A chorus of no's reached her ears, as well as a single yes. She swung to see Ori. He was holding his arm, and she could smell burned flesh. Instantly she was at his side, examining his wound.

"This cannot be my fire." She murmured. "I was angry, and so mine was hot enough it would have killed you on impact."

Before she could heal the wound, the others gave a cheer. She glanced around to see Thorin stagger to his feet, Gandalf at his side. The wizard had woken him up, then.

Thorin turned on Bilbo. "What did you think you were doing? You could have gotten yourself killed."

The whole company was taken aback – how could Thorin treat their burglar so after said burglar had saved his life? Alana, however, saw the look in his eye and waited calmly to see what he was up to, where she would have otherwise flown to the defense of her hobbit.

"Did I not say that you would be nothing but a burden, that you had no place among us?" Thorin practically growled.

Bilbo just gaped at him. The next moment, Thorin had engulfed the small man in a hug.

"I have never been so wrong."

Alana allowed the happy silence to hang in the air for a moment, and then said, "That's all well and good. Now, if you don't mind, I have a patient. You were just knocked about a bit, Thorin, but Ori's burned. And I need quiet to heal him – I haven't dealt with a burn in a long time. So if you'll hush up please..."

Alana turned back to Ori, and laid her hand over his wound. She closed her eyes in concentration, and he gasped as a strange prickling sensation travelled through his arm. A moment later she opened her eyes and once again inspected his burn. Or rather, the place where his burn had been; the wound had disappeared.

"Does it hurt at all?" She asked.

"N-no." He stammered.

"Good."

Straightening, she held her hand out in front of her, palm up. Fire appeared in her open hand, and she looked at it in wonder.

"I don't understand. This is my fire – and yet, if you came close enough to my fire that you were burned, it should have killed you. Unless..."

Alana looked back and forth between all the dwarves, then glanced at Gandalf.

"I wonder."

She crushed the fire in her hand, causing it to disappear.

"Why didn't it kill me?" Ori asked tremulously.

"It recognized you. Our fire is a part of us, a very integral part. I would never hurt you intentionally, as you are my dwarf. My fire recognized you, and lessened its heat so as not to kill you because you are one of mine."

"...I am one of yours?"

"Yes. One of my dwarves. My dwarves, my hobbit, my wizard... That is the way of our people. The ones we protect we consider ours. Not that we own them, more like they are our responsibility. Those that are mine are mine to care for in every way. It is part of our nature."

"Oh, I see." Bilbo said suddenly.

All eyes turned to him.

"See what?" Nori asked.

"...I just – ahem. Do the, uh, the draghonar... Do they retain this… Instinct, as it were? The things that are precious to them they consider their own and protect fiercely?"

Alana gave him a look and murmured, "Yes. Yes, they do. But let us not talk of that. There will be time enough later for such discussions." She knew what he was talking about – dragons were known for their love of gold and their fierce wrath if part of their treasure was stolen.

Bilbo nodded and shut up.

Thorin raised an eyebrow. "I think our burglar knows more than he is letting on."

"Yes, he does. But he is not going to say anything. When Alana wants others to know what he knows, that is her affair. Until then, he will be silent." Bilbo retorted.

Alana smiled. "Thank you Bill." She glanced at Thorin. "Bilbo knows of necessity. You would know too, if you had not been out cold when I pulled you from the path of the flames. But it matters little. You will all know eventually. If nothing else, you will know when I battle Smaug, for I will have to take my more powerful natural form to do that. Then you will see the shape of my people, if not sooner."

With that, she turned and led the way down the Carrock. When they reached the bottom, she bid them farewell.

"Alana, wait." Thorin called, stopping her. "I have been unfair to you. I have had absolutely no reason to treat you as I have. Will you stay with us, rather than traveling at a distance as you have been doing at my request?"

The Amator smiled. "I would be delighted to. But I still have a few things to do... Namely, I have some messages to send. I will rejoin you later, and hopefully I will be able to travel with you the whole rest of the way. But for now – call if you have need. Bill, Ki, Fi, would you be good enough to teach the others how to call me? I see no reason for you and Gandalf to be the only ones who know how to get ahold of me. Gandalf, if I could have a quick word with you before we go our separate ways..."

The wizard stepped aside with her, giving the others a look that commanded them not to try to eavesdrop.

"What is it, Alana?"

She gave him a dazzling smile. "He wants me to travel with the company now!"

Gandalf chuckled. "I didn't realize that you set so much stock by Thorin's goodwill."

Alana laughed and shook her head. "You misunderstand me, my good wizard. The draghonar magic has lost some of its hold! It has caused him to hate me, irrationally and without the slightest cause. But now – he no longer hates me! That is no small gain for us, and it shows that the magic is considerably weakened. It would release almost any other hold it had on him sooner than allow him to treat me with anything but hatred."

"Ah. Now your excitement makes sense. That is indeed good news, and a detail I had quite overlooked. Thank you for pointing it out. That is very encouraging. And as for his nephews, did you learn anything from the stars concerning them?"

"They are related to him through their mother, not their father. The magic has very much less influence that way. It does not seem to have gained any hold on them at all, and the stars agree with me there. It appears they are as yet unaffected. And now they will not be affected at all – I have seen to that. My own magic lies heavy about the company and even more heavily about them. It should be enough to protect them from any draghonar magic not accompanied by the presence of a draghonar, but even so I have taken the extra caution of actually setting a protective spell about them, not only my general magic. No, they are quite safe. The magic that tries to poison their uncle will not touch them, you may be sure of that."

Gandalf nodded. "Well done. That is a great relief. I had been very worried... But you know that; you were worried as well. Ah, well. If you're going, you'd better go."

Alana nodded, and turned away. "I will return soon, as soon as I may. See to it that they all know how to call me, would you?"

"Of course."

Alana took a few running steps and leapt into the air, disappearing in the night.

**I will update again as soon as I can - but since I'm no longer on the school computers every day, that might be a little difficult. The internet at home is kinda unreliable at the moment... So updates may be a little less frequent for a bit. That goes for my other stories too.**


	9. In Which Legolas Flies Through the Air

_Previously..._

_Alana nodded and turned away. "I will return soon, as soon as I may. See to it that they all know how to call me, would you?"_

_"Of course."_

_Alana took a few running steps and leapt up into the air, disappearing into the night._

**I decided to switch things up and put my little author note here instead of at the beginning... I'm random like that. **

**My puppy says hi. :) Although, he's not sure why I'm not playing with him ****_right now_****...**

**Anyway - and now I've forgotten what I was going to say. Ok, that's frustrating. Well, if I remember I'll post it at the end of the chapter. Sorry for wasting your valuable time!**

To send her message, Alana needed to be up as high as possible while still touching the ground. Amator magic is as complicated as draghonar magic in its own right, but Alana knew exactly how to use it.

Had any been able to see beyond the veil of cloud that swirled around the head of Cahadras, the tallest mountain in Middle Earth, they would have had ample cause for alarm. For on the highest rocky peak of the mountain lay a great creature known in Middle Earth as a dragon.

It was fiery red, with strong wings and legs, great talons, a long neck and spiked tail, intelligent head, and impenetrable scales. From its nostrils a thin trail of smoke rose to mix with the clouds. The most striking thing about the dragon, besides its size and color, were its eyes. They were a bright, piercing green, and full of power and wisdom.

This dragon was no dragon at all. It was Amator.

Alana stretched out a little, glad to have the room to do so. She tried to relax, knowing that to send this message she would have to use all her energy. It was entirely possible that she would be basically unconscious for a few hours, and she prayed that her company didn't get into any trouble during that time, as she would be unable to help them. She might not even be able to reach Keyon from here, she thought, realizing that if that were true she would either have to leave the company completely on their own while she went and got him, or else she would have to face Smaug and all the power of the Standubh alone. Neither was a good option, in her opinion.

When she was ready, Alana reached deep into the magic that swirled at the core of her being, searching for the ties that all Amator have to the others of their race. When she found her tie to Keyon, she took a deep breath and pulled herself out of her own mind and along the tie. It wasn't long before she began to experience some problems. For example, she was in a different world than Keyon was, and so trying to pull _herself_ into _his_ mind was... Painful. Very, _very_ painful.

She lost all real idea of time, though Alana was certain a great deal of it had passed. At long last, she felt the pull of his consciousness and finally entered his mind. He was, of course, instantly aware of her presence.

_"__Queen Alana?"_

_ "__Yes."_

_ "__I thought you were in Narnia! How did you reach me here?"_

_ "__I was in Narnia. But now I am in Middle Earth. Currently, I am on the peak of Cahadras. Gandalf the Grey asked me to come. Since our people left Middle Earth, a powerful draghonar by the name of Smaug has appeared – and the Standubh has been found."_

_ "__The Standubh?!"_

_ "__The Standubh."_

_ "__What would you have me do, my Queen?"_

_ "__Smaug is the heir of Rajani, and it would appear that I am the heir of Amator. But I do not know if I have the strength in myself to destroy both Smaug and the Standubh. Besides these, I have also my company to protect – thirteen dwarves, a hobbit, and a wizard – and they seem to get themselves in a great deal of trouble very easily. That is partially because the leading dwarf, Thorin, has been greatly affected by draghonar magic. Will you be able to come to Middle Earth? I may sorely need your help."_

For a moment he didn't answer.

At last he said reluctantly, _"I am the only Amator in my world, and there are three draghonar I have yet to destroy. They wreak havoc wherever they go, and I am all that keeps them in check. Queen Alana, if you command me I will come. But I tremble to think of the fate that would befall this place in my absence."_

_ "__I do not command you." _She replied instantly. _"I only hoped that you would be able to come. If you destroy them and have not yet heard from me again, come to Middle Earth. I will be glad to see you. But for as long as you are needed where you are, stay and do your duty. Your world is your first duty, and there are others I may call."_

_ "__I am proud to know that I was the first you wished to have by your side in this battle, my Queen. I will come if I am able."_

_ "__Thank you. I must go – every moment I wait is another moment where my dwarves may need me and be unable to reach me as I am not in my own mind. Fare you well, Keyon. May your fire burn bright."_

_ "__Fare you well, my Queen. May the stars never cease to guide you."_

Alana carefully withdrew from Keyon's mind and carefully eased herself back into her own. Fortunately, since she had already crossed this 'chasm', for lack of a better word, the pain was substantially less the second time.

With a sigh, Alana stretched out again. It would take some considerable rest to get herself psyched to do that again, but she really needed the help.

As she dropped her head down on the snow-covered peak, Alana heard a distant cry. Instantly she raised her head again. It was a cry of pain, and the voice was Kili's. What was happening to her dwarf? And why hadn't he called her?

With a sinking feeling, Alana realized that he must have called while she was in Keyon's mind. The very thing she had feared had come to pass. Her company was in trouble, and she wasn't there to help them.

With an angry roar, she launched herself from the mountain. Her wings spread wide to catch the wind and then tucked close to her body for the dive that would take her down over the lands below. When she reached the plain, Alana cloaked herself in shadow and reached out with her mind. She had never done this before – connect her mind to that of a non-Amator, that is – but she knew it was possible and she was going to do it now.

_"__Kili? Ki, answer me. Are you alright? What is happening?"_

Alana knew that her voice in his mind was loud, panicked.

_"__Alana, where are you? Why didn't you come?"_

_"__I am on my way. I couldn't hear you call, I was trying to contact another Amator and so I wasn't in my own mind. But I heard you cry out just now – are you alright?"_

_ "__Arrow in my leg. I'll live."_

She growled angrily. _"I have almost reached you – I can smell dwarf-blood. What is happening?"_

_ "__Elves captured us in Mirkwood. We lost the path, and were attacked by spiders. Without Bilbo, none of us would be alive. Now we're escaping the Elf-king's stronghold – also to Bilbo's credit – and they're giving chase. Orcs came from nowhere, and now it's a mess."_

Alana growled again. _"Hold on, I can see you."_

The scene that met her eyes would have been comical if it wasn't so serious and she wasn't so angry. The dwarves were all floating down the river in barrels, with Bilbo clinging to the side of Balin's make-shift boat. Elves lined the sides of the river, fighting the orcs that swarmed them, and one Elf was actually riding down the river via the dwarves – he was standing on the heads of two of _her_ dwarves – and firing arrows at the orcs on the banks. As she approached she saw him leap from dwarf to dwarf like he was playing hopscotch, throwing in fancy moves here and there, and still shooting orcs.

Alana decided that while the Elves could certainly prove to be a problem, they were relatively harmless for the moment – besides that guy who was leaving boot prints on Dwalin's bald head, that is. The orcs were her first worry, although if she could snag that fancy archer as she passed and drop him on the bank, away from her dwarves, she would certainly do so.

With a roar she dove toward a group of orcs that was firing on her dwarves, and knocked them all into the raging river as she passed. The Elves all looked around, startled, trying to figure out what was happening as she scooped orcs up and crushed them with her talons, and engulfed others in flame. The dwarves on the river, however, shouted and cheered.

"Alana! Our Alana!"

The lady in question roared again, and finally snagged that stupid, pesky, showoff Elf who was firing off arrows while pirouetting on a dwarf's head and tossed him onto another Elf on the bank. He yelled in surprise as he suddenly flew through the air, and all the dwarves laughed loudly and cheered again.

Alana, however, knew that she was weakening. The effort it took to reach Keyon and the subsequent conversation had taken a great deal out of her, and she didn't have the strength to fight a furiously as she was. She would have to take human-form, and even become visible to save energy. Just as she decided this, however, she felt an unmistakable thirst overwhelm her for a moment, and for a moment she saw red.

With a sinking heart, Alana realized that the magic necessary to reach Keyon had brought her blood-thirst on _much _sooner than she had expected. If she didn't have blood _now_, she would go into blood-rage.

_I swore that I would not be in a situation like this again!_

With a growl, she landed and took human-form. She also dropped the shadows that hid her – the less magic she used, the longer she would last. Alana figured that she could hold off the blood-rage for an hour at most. She didn't have very long to finish business here and lose the Elves so she could have her drink.

Even though it used some magic, thus weakening her further, she connected to Thorin's mind. Her Amator ears had heard the dwarves' worries about her – they had not been expecting her to suddenly appear on the riverbank looking like she might collapse any moment – and she knew she must put their worries to rest or they would not leave her. And that would put them in danger.

_"__Thorin."_

_ "__Alana? How do I hear you in my mind?" _His voice was startled, and Alana realized that Kili had not questioned her at all, only accepted what she did without hesitation.

_"__Amator magic. Listen, I am fine. Just a little tired, that's all – I had a serious magical workout before coming here. That's why I wasn't here right away, what I was doing kept me from hearing you call."_

_ "__Are you sure you're alright?"_

_"__I am fine. Thorin, you need to get the company downriver, as far away as you can. I will get the Elves and orcs off your tail."_

_ "__Come with us." _It was not a request.

_"__I can't do that. Not now. I'll put you all in danger."_

Thorin was silent for a moment, and then she felt understanding fill his mind.

_"__You are close to blood-rage." _It was not a question. _"Whatever you were doing with your magic drained you, and now you need your drink."_

_ "__More or less."_

Silence. From his barrel, Thorin stared up at her on the bank. The other dwarves were all looking between her and their leader. The orcs had stopped attacking (who knows why) and even the Elves were all watching, trying to figure out what this strange woman who appeared out of thin air had to do with these dwarves and whatever they were cheering about earlier.

_"__How long do you have before blood-rage?"_

_ "__I can hold it off about an hour, I think."_

Thorin nodded.

_"__Come down."_

_ "__Are you crazy?"_

_ "__No. Come down. You need blood – if your friend Peter can help you, then so can I."_

_ "__Thorin, I'm not going to drink your blood."_

_ "__You said once that as I was the leader of this company, I was your leader as much as anyone ever is. You said that you would respect and obey me as well as you are able."_

Alana sighed. _"Thorin, you don't know what you are asking. When Peter gave me his blood... He was ill for three weeks afterward. If it wasn't for my healing power, he would not be alive today. You are a dwarf, not a man. I do not know if you would not be as ill, or if you would be dead. I will respect and obey you as well as I am able, but this is one thing I cannot do. Get my company out of there, and keep them safe. I will rejoin you as soon as I can."_

Thorin finally gave in. The dwarves had all grabbed hold of each other's barrels and branches from the bank so that they weren't floating away while their leader and guardian had a little mind chat. Now, Thorin gave the order for them to let go so they would float downstream again.

"Alana is coming with us, right?" Bofur asked.

"She will rejoin us downstream. Her intent is to lead them away from us."

"Will she be alright?" Bombur worried.

"This is our Alana we are talking about." Thorin reminded. "She is always alright."

The others nodded agreement as they strained their eyes to see her as they were pulled farther and farther away by the current.

When Alana and Thorin ended their mental conversation whatever had stopped the orcs from attacking was gone, and they renewed the fight with new vigor. Alana was immediately engaged by the brutes, and fought back with all her skill – but only with her human characteristics and weapons. She couldn't risk exposing herself to the Elves.

At least they didn't continue chasing her company – they were far too busy fighting the orcs. That had been her hope. She found herself flagging as she fought to stay out of blood-rage, and received several minor wounds. Of course, ordinarily she would just heal herself. But now – she couldn't risk it.

At last the orcs were all either dead or gone. Alana sagged to the ground, the Elves forgotten in her exhaustion. She needed blood. As she was about to dig in her pack and pull out the flask of blood that she kept ready for emergencies, Elves converged on her from all sides. Her eyes widened, and she jumped straight up into the tree above her in an effort to gain some time. She had to drink at least a little blood, at all costs, or she would end up killing them all.

"Do not try to run away." The show-off from the river commanded darkly.

"I'm not trying to run. And I'll come back with you peacefully." Alana told him, leaning on the tree-trunk as she tried to open the flask.

"Then come down."

"I have conditions." She informed him tiredly.

"Such as?"

"You allow me to keep my pack – it has supplies necessary for my life. You allow me to have my drink in peace before anyone goes anywhere – I'll end up killing you all if you don't. You tell me everything about what happened with my dwarves – Kili said something about spiders and being chased by Elves in the same breath, and I'm actually rather confused. I guess that just shows how tired I really am." She mused to herself. "You will take me to your King – although I suppose you would take me anyway so there's little use in my saying that. And finally, you refrain from dancing on my head. Poor Dwalin, I have no idea how he'll get the boot-prints off."

The Elves all stared at her for a moment. She gave a soft cry of frustration and slid down the trunk of the tree, holding the flask she had been unable to get open. She was terribly weak, and ready to go into blood-rage any second now.

"Scratch that, I have one more condition. Get this stupid lid off so I can avert disaster before you're all dead!"

She held out the flask, and he hesitantly took it, clearly unsure what her play was. He uncorked it and gave it back to her, staring at her eyes. She guessed that by this time they were probably almost completely red.

Alana took a deep swallow, and already felt some strength and control return. She sighed with relief and proceeded to down the flask.

"What are you drinking?" A female Elf asked with open hostility.

Alana laughed mirthlessly. "I don't think you really want to know. Actually, I'd rather not say. It might be misunderstood. Thranduil will remember me, and he will know what my drink is. At least – he'd better remember. It wasn't so very long ago that we fought alongside each other, and if he's forgotten me already then he has a rather bad memory. Of course, he did seem to regard me as somewhat of a nuisance at times, so perhaps he blocked me from his mind. Which is a trifle odd, because without me they would never have won the battle. But I suppose I _can_ be a bit irritating from time to time..."

The Elves all blinked at her. Alana sighed and finished her drink.

"Sorry. I'm exhausted, physically, mentally, and magically. That tends to make my mind wander a little. As for my conditions, they will be met?" She asked Mr. Dance-On-Dwarves-Heads, as he seemed to be in charge.

"You speak very informally of our King." He noted with displeasure.

"I doubt he speaks very formally of me. We were friends once; good friends. Unless he has changed drastically, he will welcome me with open arms as Elrond did. But my conditions will be met? If they are not, I fear I will have to make my own way to your stronghold – I have to see Thranduil anyway, and may as well do it while I'm nearby, before I go off trying to catch up with my dwarves. They have a distinct knack for getting into trouble, but I can usually diffuse the situation. Thorin listens to me. If I had been able to come when they first called, I doubt any of this would have happened."

"Your conditions will be met. As for being allowed to keep your pack, my authority extends only until you see the King. After that, he will decide."

"Fair enough." Alana stuffed the flask back in her pack. "I must remember to refill that." She murmured quietly. "Shall we go then?"

An Elf stepped forward with a rope, and with a shrug she allowed her hands to be bound.

"That wouldn't do you much good if I wanted to get away, but if it makes you feel safer or something..."

The head Elf glared at her, then said something in an undertone to the female Elf. She nodded and motioned to two Elves who were a little ways off, holding something. They drew closer, and Alana saw that it was an orc.

"Oh good. That'll save me the trouble of hunting _him_ down, at least."

The captain Elf gave her a strange look.

"Nobody messes with my dwarves and gets away with it." She informed him.

He simply raised an eyebrow and gave the order for them to move out. For a good twenty minutes they walked. Alana was between the head Elf and the female, with several other Elves surrounding her. Unconcerned, she hummed most of the way. Suddenly, however, she stopped humming abruptly. After a moment she smiled.

"Oh, you clever dwarf." She murmured, and then seemed to go into a sort of daze.

_"__Alana? Can you hear me? Are you alright?" _It was Fili's voice, and he sounded worried.

_"__Yes, I can hear you. And yes, I'm alright. Fi, would you be kind enough to tell your uncle that I've had a change of plans? I'm headed back to the Elf fortress. Thranduil is an old acquaintance of mine, and I need to talk with him. If you need me, call. I'll be able to hear you, and I'll come right away. Also, would you tell him that the other matter we talked about has been settled to my satisfaction?"_

_ "__Of course. Are you sure you're alright?"_

_ "__I'm tired. I may try to get an hour's sleep in the comparative safety of Thranduil's palace. Other than that, I am perfectly fine. Are you all ok?"_

_ "__Yes. Wet and cold, but none the worse for wear."_

_ "__What about Ki? He was wounded." _Her thought was laced with concern.

_ "__He's alright. It was an arrow – they're treating it as we speak. It doesn't look too bad, and he says it doesn't hurt much."_

_ "__Well, this is Ki we're talking about. He's always trying to appear tougher than he is. I have a bad feeling about that wound. Make sure it's carefully cleaned, would you? I'll take a look at it myself when I catch up with you."_

_ "__It's been thoroughly cleaned, and they are wrapping it. But I'll keep an eye on him."_

_ "__Thanks. See you in a few hours, Fi."_

She broke off the mental connection to find head-boy and the female staring at her with suspicion. She was saved from questioning, however, by their arrival at the great gates of Thranduil's palace.

Both prisoners – she guessed that was what she was, although she hoped that Thranduil would rectify the situation – were brought to the throne room. The orc was shoved to the ground in front of the king's throne, while Alana was kept in the background. Thranduil didn't see her, and began to interrogate the orc. Most of what was said she could not hear.

During the interrogation, Alana found out that the head Elf was named Legolas, and he was Thranduil's son.

_Like father, like son._

Thranduil had always been a showoff. Legolas was like him – too big for his britches, as it were. But Arana guessed that they could become friends if given the chance.

The interrogation ended when the orc threatened Thranduil with "the flames of war" (which Alana guessed had something to do with Smaug), and Thranduil "freed his wretched head from his miserable shoulders". He said something about the darkness unleashing a great and devastating weapon, and then was about to walk away. Legolas stopped him.

"Ada, there is one other prisoner we captured in the forest. She seems to have ties to the dwarves who escaped."

Thranduil raised an eyebrow. "Indeed? Bring her forward."

Legolas turned and motioned to the guards on either side of Alana, and they stepped forward with her between them. They would have dragged her forward, but she didn't resist and actually started moving a moment before them.

"Hello, Thranduil." She said with a small smile. "It's been a while."

He stared at her for a moment, clearly confused and indignant that she had addressed him so improperly – and then his face cleared. He recognized her.

"Alana? Queen Alana of Amator?" He asked, astonished.

"I'm glad you remember me." She replied with a smile.

"Certainly, how could I forget the Amator who saved my life?"

"Well, you might have gained a bad memory in your old age..." Alana suggested teasingly. Her friendship with Thranduil was different than her relationship with Elrond. She and Elrond were closer friends – almost like siblings. She and Thranduil, however, had a more fun and informal relationship, if that made any sense.

"In my old age?" He asked, raising an eyebrow again.

"You must be, what, thirty thousand years old by now? How is your rheumatism?" She asked with a cheeky grin.

"My dear friend, you seem to have forgotten that your people are not the only immortals to inhabit the worlds." Thranduil returned with a slight smile.

"Oh, I haven't forgotten." She was silent for a moment before adding, "It is good to see you, my friend. With your leave, I will dispose of my bindings?" It was her turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Certainly." Came the quick response.

Legolas gaped (well, Elves don't gape. It did look suspiciously like gaping, however. Perhaps a trifle more dignified?) as the cords burst into flame and fell to the ground. He had not seen her blow on them softly, but it wouldn't have made a great deal of difference to his shock.

Alana grinned at him. "I told you that it would do you no good to bind me if I actually wanted to escape."

Thranduil spared his son a glance, before offering Alana his arm. "Come, my dear. I am sure you are weary. Perhaps you would like a little refreshment?"

"Surely you remember that I rarely eat, Thranduil. An hour or so of sleep ought to fix me up. I've been using a great deal of power recently, and am magically exhausted. I expect you'll want to have a chat about how I'm connected to the escaped dwarves?"

"After you rest." The elf said firmly.

**Sorry to everyone who loves Legolas! I love him to, and I think his stunt at the river is awesome, but I thought that Alana would be annoyed. After all, she is Amator. And those are HER dwarves that he's playing ballerina with. So I had her end his dance/fight thing.**

**And I still haven't remembered what I was going to write at the beginning of the chapter. So y'all can just wonder about it for the rest of eternity. And I'll probably join you in that - it's going to bug me now, until I remember. Gr.**

**Hey - anyone heard of the Imperials? Currently listening to their song "The Trumpet of Jesus". Y'all should check it out if you don't know it - it's awesome. :)**


End file.
